Rastaban Slytherin: The Son of the Serpent
by SaintRidley
Summary: AU. Bellatrix managed to sire the Dark Lord's child, who was raised by the Malfoys after she and Voldemort died. Aside from this detail, DH and epilogue compliant. Now he starts school. Rast is my own character, Teddy and others are owned by J.K. Rowling.
1. Prologue: 1997 to 1998

_Prologue: 1997-1998_

Bellatrix Lestrange had been working hard, brewing a potion that would enable her greatest desire to come to fruition. She capped the bottle that smelled of snake venom and power, dropping it into a hidden pocket of her robes. The Dark Lord had sent her to fetch supplies, as her entire family had fallen out of favour for Lucius's blunder and Draco's inability to kill the old fool, Dumbledore.

The old man was gone, though. He was dead, and had ever made the Dark Lord so happy. She went to the drawing room, her master sure to be there. He sat at the far end of the table, hissing softly to his snake. She wished she understood; that she had the same gift of Parseltongue.

"Bella," he said quietly, not removing his eyes from the snake. "Get me some tea, and find me one of Lucius's prized peacocks. I am thirsty, and Nagini hungers tonight."

"Yes, Master," she said before leaving the room again. Bellatrix first went to the yard, where sure enough, there remained three albino peacocks, the remains of Lucius's once large flock. Without a word, she aimed her wand and shot a curse at the bird, rendering it unconscious. Levitating it at wandpoint, she returned to the manor and made herself busy in the kitchen.

She made tea quickly enough, pouring a few drops of the potion that smelled of venom and power into the cup before stowing it away once again. Dragging the bird behind her, she levitated the cup ahead as she returned. "Shall I un-stun the bird before you feed Nagini, Master?" she asked.

"No, we need not cause a commotion this night," Voldemort said before hissing at the snake, which uncoiled and made its way to the bird. "Now, I have sent Severus to gather any information relating to when they will move the boy. As it has only been a week since Dumbledore was killed, we can expect his report two weeks from now. Find the Carrows and let them know that once the Ministry falls, I will have positions at Hogwarts for them."

Bellatrix turned to leave, hearing Voldemort take the first sip of the tea. "Wait," he said before rising. "Stand right there. The way the light reflects off you there is simply stunning. You look radiant."

Bellatrix smiled, hearing the words she had always wished to hear from the Dark Lord. It only took a little Amortentia to bring them out of him, after all.

"Thank you, Master. I –" she began, but Lord Voldemort held a hand up to silence her.

"Now, I have another task for you this night. Forget the Carrows, and let us go to your chambers..."

Nine months later, Bellatrix had just given birth to a healthy baby boy with the blackest hair she had ever seen, a purer black than even she had. She held her son and Narcissa looked on proudly.

"Congratulations, Bella. I can't believe that you have a son now!" she exclaimed, wringing every bit of positive emotion out of her mind and into her words. She no longer felt much pleasure at being Bella's younger sister, but had gladly taken on the role of godmother.

"Thanks, Cissy. I really appreciate your help, and He will certainly be proud. Rastaban Cygnus Slytherin sounds like a good name, yes?"

"Very. Papa would be proud to have a grandson born of the Dark Lord and named for him," she responded truthfully.

"Well, then, I suppose it's about time to introduce him to his father. I wonder why he isn't crying," Bellatrix wondered out loud.

"He doesn't cry," Lord Voldemort said upon seeing his son, upon seeing the dark brown eyes staring back at him.

"No, he doesn't, my Lord," Bellatrix apologised quickly. "I do not know –"

"Good. I could never stand the sound of a child crying. It's weak."

"I agree fully, Master," Bellatrix recovered, glad that he was not angry about this.

"I will be out of the country for the next few days. I want you to relay to the rest that no one, _no one_, is to summon me for anything less than Potter. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

Mere weeks later, Bellatrix Lestrange and Lord Voldemort lay dead, their son still resting peacefully at Malfoy Manor. Upon their family's acquittal, Lucius and Narcissa resigned to raise the child as a boy who would not hold the prejudices of his parents. If they could do that, they reasoned, they would truly be doing a service to the magical community and would truly be earning the freedom they enjoyed.


	2. Chapter 1: The Hogwarts Express

_Chapter 1: The Hogwarts Express_

Rastaban stood with his aunt on the Muggle side of King's Cross, waiting for a time with low Muggle density before crossing through. They had everything packed up for him, and Cousin Draco had even purchased him an owl. He had been encouraged to exercise creativity when naming the owl, being provided with books on astronomy and mythology for basic choices.

Rastaban, however, chose to look through history books for an appropriate name for the owl. It was a male tawny, and he felt it was good to choose from relatively interesting history. He saw the story of the last Dark Lord, and felt an instant draw to the man's middle name, like it would fit the pet perfectly, like it was somehow a part of him. His aunt and uncle had been highly displeased at first, upon hearing that he had named the owl Marvolo, and he had had to reassure them for several weeks that he harboured no ill will towards those of Muggle ancestry. He was a good boy, after all, and only had a thirst for knowledge, not for blood. They had reluctantly accepted the decision when he had told them he wouldn't eat until they let him name the owl Marvolo. The hunger strike lasted two days before they gave in.

When the opportunity arose, Rastaban and Narcissa crossed the barrier to the magical platform. It had been eleven years since she had been on the platform, though she noted that it looked identical since the time that she and Lucius had dropped Draco off for his final year of Hogwarts.

"Well, Rastaban, there's the train," Narcissa said, wiping a tear from her eye. "Oh, it's just like when Draco started!"

"Yes, Aunty, except you aren't fighting tooth and nail to send me to Durmstrang, like Uncle Lucius says you were. Why can't he be here?" the young boy replied politely, before asking the question that burned within him.

"Your uncle likes to present himself in the good light, then. I fought tooth and nail to have Draco go to Hogwarts; _he_, your Uncle Lucius, was the one who wanted Durmstrang. Uncle Lucius starts his new job today; I've already told you that. Don't worry, you'll see him soon enough. Now, Rastaban, I want you to know that if there's anything you need, just write home, alright?" she asked softly, giving her nephew a hug.

"I'll write home like I promised yesterday, and the day before that. I just wish my Mum and Dad were here to see me today. Tell me again what they were like, please," he begged.

"Your parents were quite... They were passionate people, devoted wholly to their ideals. They died fighting for what they believed in and wouldn't have had it any other way," she said, glossing over the truth that she felt her young nephew was not yet ready to know.

"Thanks," Rastaban said. Hearing about his parents always brought good feelings to him, as he imagined their great exploits. His uncle and aunt never elaborated on what they had given their lives for; always claiming that he was too young to understand. He looked over toward the nearest other student his age, hoping to find a friend before boarding.

His eyes locked onto a young boy whose hair fluctuated between a soft brown and a dark blond, standing beside a woman with greying brown hair who must have been a few years older than Aunt Narcissa. She looked strangely similar to Rastaban's aunt, though he could not quite place how. _She must be some distant relative_, he thought.

Narcissa let her eyes follow in the direction of her young charge to find the one person she had not expected to find today. Narcissa repressed a gasp, and averted her eyes from her sister. Narcissa had not spoken to Andromeda, despite the end of the war, since she had married the Muggleborn, and the arrangement had suited the Black sisters quite well even after the defeat of Voldemort.

Andromeda Tonks had taken one glance to her left, doing a double-take when she realised just who it was that she saw. Narcissa was at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, but why? She can't have been here to see her great-nephew; the Malfoys had never once shown interest in Teddy before, and they had certainly held no love for Nymphadora. Then she saw him, and there was no mistaking the child next to Narcissa. His hair was the same shade as his mother's had been, his eyes were the same colour as hers, too.

She had not known that Bella had become pregnant during the final year of her life, knowing only the joy she had felt when the news of that jezebel's well-deserved demise had come to her. Whoever the father was, it appeared he was not a part of the boy's life either. Anyone who would consort with Bellatrix could not be a good influence, and she was privately glad for the boy. Despite Lucius and Narcissa's faults, they had seemed to have reformed over the past eleven years. She hoped that they had tried to avoid the mistakes they had made with Draco.

She considered warning Teddy against associating with the boy, but she disregarded the idea. In all likelihood, they would at most meet on the train, and then the boy would become a Slytherin, and their contact would be limited. Teddy was a good judge of character anyway, and would be fair to the boy in a way she could not be. Bestowing a kiss to her grandson, she helped him load his trunk onto the train.

"Do write to me about your Sorting, Teddy. I want you to know that wherever you go, no matter what, I'll be proud of you. And your parents would be too," she said gently.

"I know. You were in Slytherin, Mum and Grandpa were in Hufflepuff, Dad was in Gryffindor, and Dad's parents were in Ravenclaw. I've got pretty much the whole spectrum open to me here. I'll write, Gran," he said, assuaging his grandmother's worries.

Teddy Lupin and Rastaban Slytherin boarded the train, bidding their farewells to their relations, and searched around the train for an open compartment. Rastaban found a secluded compartment near the back of the train and quickly changed into his robes before twirling his wand absentmindedly. About five minutes later there was a knock on the door, and he opened to find the boy from the platform staring back.

"There are no other compartments, so I was wondering if you wouldn't mind letting me in," he said quite nervously, as though Rastaban might refuse him. Rastaban stepped back though, allowing the boy his entry.

"Thanks," he muttered, sitting down as Rastaban closed the door and went back to his own seat. "So, what's your name?"

"I'm Rastaban, but everyone always shortens it to Rast. What's yours?"

"I'm Theodore, but everyone's called me Teddy since I was born. The woman you were with had the blondest hair I've ever seen. She can't be your mum, as yours is so black," he stated baldly, his own hair having settled to a shade of light brown.

"That was my aunt, and I live with her and my uncle. My parents are dead, and they won't tell me much about them. And the woman you were with is too old to be your mum," Rast noted, trying to direct the conversation in a way that would keep him safe from questions.

"That was my Gran. My parents died in the war, leaving me with her and occasionally with my godfather. Do you know how your parents died?"

"They died in the war, too, from what I've managed to gather. I don't really know much else, though. Sorry," he said, apologising for being unable to say any more on the current subject.

"Don't be sorry, Rast. So, what House do you expect you'll be in?"

"Oh... I don't really know. I suppose I might get Slytherin, but I really don't want to," Rastaban said. He didn't want his surname to come into this just yet, but he felt as though his name was condemning him to a House he felt no emotional attachment to. "I'd probably be happier anywhere else, to be honest."

"Slytherins aren't all bad, Rast. My Gran was one, and she turned out to be one of the kindest witches alive. I have no idea where I'm going to end up; all four Houses are pretty well-represented in my family, actually. I'm thinking Gryffindor, though, because Harry would like it," Teddy replied, trying to lessen the other boy's anxiety.

"Harry must be your godfather, then," Rastaban said, receiving a simple reply in the affirmative.

The boys sat, talking animatedly throughout the journey, declining to purchase any snacks from the sweet trolley, and imagining wildly what it would be like once they got to the school. Soon enough the train began to slow, and the two boys stepped out into the cold September air at Hogsmeade station.


	3. Chapter 2: Sorting a New Generation

_Chapter 2: Sorting a New Generation_

The two boys looked around for a few moments before hearing a great, booming call from near the lake. "FIRS' YEARS! FIRS' YEARS, O'ER THIS WAY!" called a giant of a man, a mass of shaggy grey hair and beard obscuring all but his beetle-black eyes. Standing next to him, even larger, was a real giant. Wearing an improbably large set of slacks and an equally large pinstriped shirt, the giant smiled at them all, his boulder-like head nodding just so.

Teddy waved, but Rast merely looked toward the two giants, somewhat frightened. Looking to his friend, Teddy said "Hey, don't worry. They work here. That's Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures Professor and his brother, Grawp, the gamekeeper. They're friends of my godfather's."

"They're just...," Rast faltered. "They're huge. I'm not used to people that big. Grawp looks just like the giants I've read about."

"That's because he is a giant. Hagrid's half-giant, though. They're both nice enough, once you get to know them," Teddy assured him as they climbed into a boat with two other students, girls with blonde and brown hair.

"I'm Valerie and this is Andrea. What are your names?" the brown-haired girl asked as they settled in.

"Teddy."

"Rast, and it's really nice to meet you both."

"It's nice to meet you both, too," Andrea replied.

The boats began their journey toward the castle when Grawp untied the ropes holding them to the dock. Hagrid sat in the lead boat, pointing shouting "DUCK!" in his great voice whenever the boats approached low-hanging branches. More often than not, this was more for his own benefit than any actual danger from the foliage to any of the first years.

Every head turned, watching the tentacle of the giant squid wave lazily above the surface of the water. Several waved back, having heard much about the squid from parents and relatives. "Uncle Ron always said that the squid would eat me if I didn't behave, until Aunt Hermione told him to stuff it and quit lying to such an impressionable child," Teddy said, laughing a little.

The boats floated into an underground cavern, docking near a dimly lit passageway. The first years scrambled out of the boats as Hagrid checked that no one had lost anything. Then, satisfied that the students were prepared, he led them upstairs into a large room and asked that they stop before he continued on through the next door. Teddy, Rast, Valerie, and Andrea caught a glimpse of the room beyond, of the long tables with hundreds of students talking animatedly.

"Do you know anything about how we're sorted?" Rast asked, having never once thought to try and get the answer out of his aunt and uncle.

"Well, Uncle George said he fought a troll, but Harry told me that he was full of it. Apparently they just put a hat on your head and it looks in your mind and places you where it thinks you belong," Teddy said. Valerie nodded in agreement, and Andrea looked like Rastaban felt: nervous.

A young man of about Cousin Draco's age, Rast thought, wearing robes of bright red with gold trim, strolled out from a hidden doorway and cleared his throat. "Hullo, first years, and welcome. My name is Professor Longbottom, and I teach Herbology. I am also Head of Gryffindor House, one of the four Houses at Hogwarts. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin are named for our great founders, and soon you shall all be sorted into one of these Houses.

"Your House will be like your family here, and you will make some lifelong friendships through your House. The four Houses compete each year for the House Cup, won by the House with the most points at the end of the year. Good behaviour and excellent work will be rewarded with House points; misbehaviour and failure can and often are punished with penalties to points. Please be on your best behaviour. Now, if you will all follow me, your Sorting shall begin soon."

The first years followed Professor Longbottom, who led them to a space between the four long tables full of older students and the High Table, where the teachers all sat expectantly. Rastaban kept his head low, not looking at the High Table or its occupants. He dreaded when his name would be called.

Professor Longbottom returned, bearing an old hat with several scorch marks and tears, placing it on a three-legged stool. Standing aside, he allowed the hat room to do as it would. Opening its brim wide, the hat sang.

_It has been a long eleven years_

_Since the fateful day I burned_

_Placed upon the poor boy's ears,_

_I had hoped we'd all have learned._

_But at the start, with every class_

_I am forced to take and divide_

_To separate lad from lass,_

_Your fates I am bound to decide._

_And though I say that it is wrong_

_To do as I must do,_

_I am required to take the throng_

_And divorce it two by two._

_Each time, it pains me to say_

_Is he smart or is he cunning?_

_Ravenclaw or Slytherin? On this day,_

_Both are in the running._

_Likewise, I cannot help but wonder_

_Is she loyal as she is brave?_

_Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, I ponder_

_A decision, admittedly grave._

_I find myself wishing for another way _

_Aside from meaningless partition,_

_There is no recourse, and so they say_

_The Sorting may now begin._

The hat fell silent and there was scattered applause. "Kind of a depressing note to begin the year with, isn't it?" Rastaban asked Teddy, who nodded.

Professor Longbottom stepped forward holding a scroll in his hand and eyeing the hat warily. "When I call your name, please step forward and place the hat upon your head. It will call out the House that you have been Sorted into, and you will then proceed to the table of that House. Now, ANDERSON, ANDREA!"

Andrea slunk out of the small group of first years and made her way up to the stool, jamming the hat upon her head and disappearing from view. A few moments later, the hat pronounced her a Ravenclaw, receiving much applause.

More students queued up, being sorted into each of the four Houses. Soon enough, the call came. "LUPIN, THEODORE!"

Teddy walked up confidently, throwing a knowing smile at Professor Longbottom, who returned it. Placing the hat carefully upon his head, he looked out from under the brim. "GRYFFINDOR!" it shouted, after but a moment.

After only a few more names were called, Professor Longbottom looked to his scroll. His eyes widened, and he turned to the tiny man at the Headmaster's seat. The little Headmaster nodded and mouthed something inaudible before Professor Longbottom continued. "SL-SLYTHERIN, RASTABAN!"

Rast approached timidly, hearing the buzz of whispers both among the students and the teachers. He smiled nervously at Professor Longbottom, who merely nodded without truly looking at him. Placing the hat on his head, Rast looked out to find the entire student body staring back at him.

_"Ah, Slytherin they said and indeed it is. I think I'll –"_

_"I don't want to be in Slytherin. Really, I don't."_

_"You don't? Both of your parents were Slytherin to the core, more so than you could ever understand. Wouldn't your family like to see you uphold tradition?"_

_"My aunt and uncle are proud of me no matter what I do. I don't want Slytherin, no matter what my stupid name is."_

_"Well, that knocks one House out of the running, then, if you're so dead set on not being in Slytherin. You're hard-working and intelligent, though neither of those are truly dominant traits. I think I can cross those out, too."_

_"Good, I'd love to be in Gryffindor. Teddy's in Gryffindor; and we've already become friends."_

_"So it shall be. _GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted out the last word, and Rast put it back on the stool and made his way for the Gryffindor table. He didn't care that there was no applause for him, only that he was finally sorted.

"I didn't know your surname was Slytherin," Teddy hissed as the Sorting continued.

"I didn't figure it was important," Rast said defensively.

"It's not. Now hush, Valerie's getting sorted soon."

After another three minutes or so, Valerie Wood was called up, and sure enough, when she placed the hat on her head, it immediately shouted out "GRYFFINDOR!"

Professor Longbottom rolled up the scroll, taking the stool and the hat out through a nearby passage, before seating himself at the right of the Headmaster, and to the left of a man wearing a long black cloak and a hood, obscuring his face. The little Headmaster stood up in his seat and began speaking.

"I'll save the announcements for after the feast, so please, tuck in!"

A grand feast appeared before them all, and they took to the feast, trying out anything that they could reach. A sombre ghost, dressed in the style of a fifteenth century nobleman, floated nearby and looked at the food longingly. "It has been so very long since I was last able to eat," he said.

"Sorry," Rast and Teddy said together.

"Well, I can't help it. I suppose I should be used to it by now," he said mournfully. The ghost drifted down the table, allowing the two to eat peacefully until the last of the food disappeared.

The Headmaster stood again and addressed the room. "Welcome, welcome, to another year at Hogwarts!" His voice was squeaky and shook with age. "I trust you all filled up on this delectable feast. Now, for just a few start-of-term announcements, I would like first to make the usual notices. The forbidden forest is off-limits, there's a ban on all items from Weasley's Wizard's Wheezes, and there is to be no magic in the corridors.

"We also have a pair of new staff appointments. The new Transfiguration Professor and Head of Hufflepuff is Professor Susan Bones." A young woman, about the same age as Professor Longbottom, stood and smiled before sitting down again.

"I would also like to say that we have a new Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts. May I introduce you to the new Head of Slytherin House, Professor Lucius Malfoy?"

The man in the black cloak lowered his hood, unleashing his long mane of white-blond hair. He smiled brightly toward the students as his eyes scanned the Gryffindor table for his nephew. There was some applause from the Slytherin table, low whispers from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, and much of the Gryffindor table erupted into mutinous discussion about the evils of the new Professor.

Rast clapped along with the Slytherins and smiled at his uncle, who gave him a quizzical but approving look.

"Do you know him?" Teddy asked, glancing at the High Table as he did so.

"Yeah," Rastaban responded. "He's my uncle."


	4. Chapter 3: A Serpent in Gryffindor Tower

_Chapter 3: A Serpent in Gryffindor Tower_

"Oi, you! Get up. You're coming with us," a voice said, rousing Rastaban from his slumber.

"Huh? What time is it?"

"Grab him and bring him to the common room," another voice commanded before a pair of hands lifted the boy out of bed

Rast opened his eyes, finding the dormitory to be dimly lit through the windows, the sun only just peeking over the horizon. He could barely make out the three older boys who carried him downstairs, jostling him and handling him roughly.

"Now," said the second voice as Rast was sat in a chair, bound by thick ropes conjured by one of the other two voices. "You're going to answer some questions, _Slytherin_. And we won't take kindly to lies."

"But –"

"We'll ask the questions here. Now, what are you playing at, getting sorted into Gryffindor with a name like that? Why aren't you in Slytherin with all the other little freaks who are obsessed with the Dark Arts?"

"I –"

"Gryffindor house has a proud tradition of taking the brave and chivalrous, not the cowardly and self-serving, _Slytherin_," the boy sneered, the other two laughing along.

"But –"

"Oh, you want to try and explain yourself, eh? With a name like Slytherin your family can't have been anything but supporters of You-Know-Who. Just try and find an excuse."

"I'venevermetmyparentsandIhavenoideawhotheywere," Rast said quickly, trying not to get interrupted again.

"What was that, _Slytherin_? Was it a confession of guilt?"

"I've never met my parents and I have no idea who they were," he nervously repeated, scared of the boys before him, seventh years by the look of it, who stood and glared at him.

"Never met your parents?"

"Yeah, they – they died in the war."

"Who raised you, then?"



"My aunt and uncle did. And my uncle's a professor," Rast added, hoping that this might make them let him go.

"A Professor, you say? Which one?" They narrowed their eyes, watching as Rast fidgeted in the seat.

"Professor Malfoy," he whispered.

"Who? What did you say?"

"Professor Malfoy."

The fist came out of nowhere, and Rast was left bound to the chair as the three boys left. He didn't understand, didn't know why these other boys had treated him like that. He knew they thought he belonged in Slytherin, with a name like his. But he had no idea why he had been hit for having Lucius Malfoy as his uncle.

Never in his life had he been treated like this. His aunt and uncle never spoke of what they had done during the war, and he'd never read about them in any of the books that described it. He thought it was his aunt's doing, as she was always so protective of him.

At the Gryffindor table during breakfast, Teddy spoke first. "Valerie says she found you tied to a chair when she came downstairs. She said that you told her that you had been there like that for a couple hours. Is it true?"

Rast looked up, first across the table to Valerie, who shied away from his pained gaze, and then to Teddy. "Yeah," he muttered, moving his eggs around with his fork.

"That how you got that black eye?"

"What black eye?"

"That one," Teddy said, gesturing toward Rast's bruised left eye.

"I know. And yes," he said, turning away from his friends and toward the High Table. Lucius looked down, his smile faltering at the sight of his nephew. Rast sighed, knowing his uncle would want to speak to him as soon as possible.

"So, who did it?" Valerie was the one to ask this time, and Teddy looked toward him as well, curious to hear the answer.

"It was a few seventh years, but I don't know their names. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Teddy nodded, sympathetically, his hair darkening a bit. Valerie looked at him, this being her first time seeing Teddy's hair change, but turned back to Rast. "You're going to tell Professor Longbottom, right?"



"I don't know. If I do, I'll just get more of the same from more people. Can we please talk about something else?"

"Sure," Teddy answered, evidently agreeing that a change of topic might be better for Rast. "What about?"

"I have one," Valerie said, looking at Teddy now. "How come your hair changes colour like that?"

Rastaban perked up at this, eager to hear what Teddy would say to this.

"Well, I'm a Metamorphmagus. My mum was, too, and it passed on to me. Sometimes it's hard to control, but most of the time it's manageable," he began, garnering further interest from the other two.

"When it doesn't want to cooperate with me, it tends to reflect my emotions. Dark is negative and light is positive. My Gran says that mum could do stuff with her face, too, but I still haven't managed to figure that out yet."

"Cool," Valerie replied. "So, you'll eventually be able to change your whole appearance, right?"

"Yeah, I think so. Mum was able to change her apparent age by the time she died, actually..."

"Wicked." Rast replied this time, thoroughly intrigued. "The mail's here."

Owls were streaming into the Hall, bearing letters and parcels. An eagle owl, followed by a snowy owl arrived, each bearing a letter for Teddy. Another eagle owl came with a letter for Rast, as did his own owl, Marvolo. A barn owl came for Valerie, and all three eagerly took to their mail.

_Dear Rast,_

_It came as a surprise that you were sorted into Gryffindor, but I want you to know that I couldn't be prouder of you. I know you'll be fine there, and you'll probably make plenty of friends. Try not to get into too much trouble._

_Love always,_

_Aunt Narcissa_

Rast opened the letter from his own owl and read eagerly.

_Rast,_

_As you could probably tell, I was very surprised by your Sorting. But I told you that I would be proud of you no matter what, and I am. You'll have my class today, and I promise that you'll learn some truths that your aunt and I have kept from you until now. Just keep in mind that we wanted to wait until we thought you were ready to know, and we both agree that you now are._

_Until later,_

_Uncle Lucius_

The three Gryffindors sat, comparing the congratulations they received from their relations. Teddy's grandmother and godfather had both written of their pride in him, and Valerie's father said that if she joined the Quidditch team next year, she could restore the team to its previous glory, a glory that had not been had since Ginny Potter, née Weasley, graduated a decade earlier.

"Oh, look, class schedules are coming down the table," Valerie noted as the boys finished with their letters.

"It looks like we have Professor Malfoy first. Great," Teddy stated sarcastically upon receiving a copy.

"What's wrong with my uncle?" Rast asked, getting bewildered looks from both Valerie and Teddy.

"Sorry, forgot he was your uncle. You really don't know? I guess you'll see soon enough," Teddy replied, half apologetically and half in disbelief.


	5. Chapter 4: The Trial of Lucius Malfoy

_Chapter 4: The Trial of Lucius Malfoy_

All three were eager to learn Defence Against the Dark Arts, considered by graduates for the last eleven years to be the most important class in the school. Older students found their parents' assertions that the subject had been a joke in their time to be nothing more than gross exaggeration meant to bolster confidence in the younger set. Indeed, the standards for the course were rumoured to be very strict, as the last O's received at the N.E.W.T. level had gone to Ginny Potter and Luna Scamander during their final year, a decade earlier.

Several sixth year students grumbled among themselves as Rast, Teddy, and Valerie made their way to the third floor classroom that they would take the class in. They overheard snippets of conversation, mostly about how they could no longer take Defence into N.E.W.T. because Professor Malfoy refused to take those who did not achieve an O on their Ordinary Wizarding Levels. Rastaban was quite impressed by how seriously his uncle took the job, only taking the very best in the subject. Teddy and Valerie, however, chalked it up to general Malfoy snobbishness, though they never said this to Rast's face.

They, along with the other six or seven students that comprised Gryffindor House this year, took their seats in the dimly lit classroom and waited for the arrival of Professor Malfoy. The small size of the first year class on the whole owed itself to the relatively small number of children born during the period of open war with Lord Voldemort. The classroom, though every student who should have occupied it was present, thusly appeared emptier than one would initially imagine.

After a moment of quiet murmuring amongst themselves, the Gryffindor first years sat with their full attention to the front of the classroom, which had suddenly been lit up. They could now see upon the wall a great many portraits and photographs, each more horrifying than the last. There was one of a lone wizard, his only movements being his sparse and shallow breathing, a vacant, empty expression on his face.

The students were so taken in by the images and the inexpressible evil that radiated from them that they did not notice at first when Professor Malfoy stood in front of them, watching with his grey eyes. Slowly, though not all at once, the students turned and sat attentively, waiting for the Professor to begin in whatever manner he might.

"Let me see," he began, looking down at a short slip of parchment that he now held in his left hand. "Slytherin, Lupin, Wood, Jones, Davidson, McLaggen, O'Flaherty, Johnson, and Williams are all present and accounted for. Good, we have the whole House in, then. Now, I take it that roughly half of you are Muggleborn, yes?"

A few students looked toward their professor with malice in their hearts, knowing the name Malfoy and all it connoted. A few others looked at him with less malice, though they obviously had not heard all the stories. Teddy looked at him, disgusted. Rast looked on with curiosity, wondering why exactly his uncle cared to know.

"And so what if we are?" Martin Williams asked defiantly.

"You see, Mister Williams, the history of the Dark Arts is littered with the designs of Dark Wizards trying to subjugate Muggles or their magical children. You should know that in the event of the rise of a Dark Wizard, you will be likely targets," he stated plainly but delicately.

"You'll know all about that, then, wouldn't you, _Professor_?"

This question came from Valerie, who had by now chosen to ignore the fact that he was uncle to her friend. Lucius Malfoy shifted his gaze, finding a bright young witch looking at him pointedly, her anger and hatred apparent.

"Miss Wood, I cannot deny my knowledge and participation in certain Dark activities during my younger days. To do so would be dishonest and unjust. It would be an affront to the memories of those who died fighting against the Dark Lord."

"So tell us, then, _sir_, why you walk free today and why we should trust you. Tell us why you aren't in Azkaban and what you ever did to fight against You-Know-Who," Teddy demanded impatiently.

"As I intended to cover the history of the Dark Arts alongside the spells and creatures I am required to pass on to you, I shall acquiesce to your request, Mister Lupin. I suppose I should start from the beginning, then. My father was a schoolmate of the Dark Lord's and was one of his first Death Eaters. My family enjoyed being his favoured servants, and I was raised to join upon my coming of age."

Rast was shocked. His uncle had been a Death Eater and never told him.

"I did so, and until his first fall back in 1981, I was very loyal. After a decade of freedom and fatherhood, though, in which I had escaped Azkaban through claims of being under the Imperius Curse, I was less interested in the Dark Lord. I had a son, and I was slowly removing the artefacts from my home, as I was less than accepting of the notion that my son should follow in my footsteps. However, when the Dark Lord returned to power, I had to return to his service. I would not leave my son without a father.

"I admit that I sought to keep in his good graces, as it would mean a less difficult time for my wife and son. I failed in my task, my first assignment since his return, and was consequently arrested and sent to Azkaban. Upon my freedom, which the Dark Lord ensured, I found that my son had been selected. He was to be branded with the Dark Mark and forced to undertake a mission, the Dark Lord's way of punishing me. Draco failed in his mission and we fell out of his favour. From that moment on, my wife and I were concerned only with keeping our son safe and alive.

"I lost my wand; it was destroyed when the Dark Lord tried to kill Harry Potter just less than a year before his defeat. On the night of the Dark Lord's downfall, my wife and I never participated in the battle. We sought out our son, wanting to find him alive and to ensure his safety. My wife lied to the Dark Lord when he believed Harry Potter to be dead; knowing that the only way we would be able to find out if Draco was alive was if he believed himself victorious. Harry defeated him, and we found our son. Harry vouched for us, claiming that without my wife's assistance, he could never have succeeded. He asked that our sentence be reduced to a large fine to be used for the rebuilding of Hogwarts, and I volunteered additional funds to causes that would benefit those Muggleborns who had been affected by the war."

The students sat, taking all this in as he explained himself. Rast stared, dumbfounded, at the man he had lived with for his whole life. He had never known these things. He saw the remorse, though he felt a nagging sense that it was faked, in his uncle's heart, the pain of what he had done and the way he continued to try to atone for the damages he had done, even though he legally had paid his debt to society. He felt sorry for the man, for all he had done. He also felt disgust, disgust at the fact that his uncle had been a part of the Dark Lord's inner circle.

The thing Rastaban felt most, though, was betrayal. Why had this knowledge been kept from him? They had never told him of their past, always keeping the knowledge just out of his grasp, dodging his questions and answering in half-truths. If they had told him earlier, he could have accepted it and moved on. Now, though, he couldn't do that. He was just disappointed in them, and he looked up at his uncle imploringly at the end of class once everyone else had left.

"I _thought_ you were a good man, Uncle Lucius," he stated simply before leaving, not waiting for a response. Lucius Malfoy quietly watched as his nephew left the classroom, his heart falling as he realised that this would surely change the relationship between them. If the boy had taken this news so badly, he shuddered to think what the boy would think when he found out the truth of his parentage.


	6. Chapter 5: A Question of Ethics

_Chapter 5: A Question of Ethics_

"I still can't believe it. A Death Eater! And a loyal one at that!" Rast was pacing in the common room, a month later, still unable to fully get over the feelings he had over the first Defence class of term.

"Rast, you're obsessing a bit. He hasn't tried to kill any Muggleborns yet, and I think as long as we've got Flitwick and Longbottom, we're relatively safe. He won't step out of line with them around," Teddy replied, sitting in a cushy armchair near the fire, watching the flames dance wildly. His hair matched the flames in colour today, standing on end to create the illusion of a head afire.

"He is your uncle, and you'll have to reconcile somehow. You do have to live with him for a few years yet. We agree; we don't trust him, but he does seem to have raised you to be decent, which means there must be something good in him," Valerie continued for Teddy, but Rast wasn't listening as usual.

"Tortured and killed Muggles, wore the Dark Mark proudly, and Aunt Narcissa stood by while he did all that," he continued, seemingly unaware of his audience. "And if she thinks that bribing me with sweets is going to make me speak to either of them ever again, she's in for a surprise."

Narcissa, upon hearing from Lucius that Rast had found out the truth and had taken it as a personal affront, had immediately sent a letter pleading with him to understand and a package of his favourite sweets: Fizzing Whizbees. Rast had torn up the letter the moment the owl arrived, and using a spell he found in his Charms textbook, he incinerated the treats, much to the shock and eventual approval of Teddy and Valerie.

"Mum and dad probably turned out to be some of the Dark Lord's biggest supporters, if I got left with the Malfoys after they died. Teddy, you'll take me in over the summer, won't you? I'm not going back. I... I can't go back."

"Rast, you didn't hear either of us, did you? By the end of the year we'll be able to tell if your uncle has truly reformed. You'll be able to live peacefully with him," Teddy explained, standing to put his hands on the shoulders of the other boy. "I mean, sure, he was a Death Eater. But if he's reformed at all, and he's raised you to not be like him, then that's good. And if he's reformed, then you'll at least be able to tolerate two months with them. If he hasn't reformed, if he turns out to be too rotten for your liking, I'll put in a word with Gran to have you live with us for the summer, okay?"

"Thanks, Teddy. I really, really appreciate that, man. I think I'll talk to him after the next class. Maybe there's still something left to salvage..."

The next morning, after a relatively relaxing Herbology lesson with Professor Longbottom; the Gryffindor first years filed into Defence class with Professor Malfoy. As was the custom, not a one of them looked at all pleased to be in the same room as the Head of Slytherin House. The professor played his usual role of looking bored and smugly asserting that it simply would not do for them to continue proving their knowledge to be substandard day after day.

Rast recognised this tactic for what it was, though it in no way lessened his annoyance over it. This was, as he knew full well, his uncle's idea of motivation. Make the child feel they haven't done

enough, haven't been good enough, and surely they will try harder. They all hated it, and when they told Professor Longbottom about it he only smiled wryly and recalled to them about the last Headmaster, one Professor Severus Snape. It would seem that they just had to endure.

As for the class itself, the students were united in their thoughts. They hated the way Professor Malfoy tried to spur them on toward better work, though they did find that his historical takes on the Dark Arts were certainly more interesting and informative than anything they had yet to encounter in History of Magic. He taught well, though they would never acknowledge this fact in the man's presence. He never tried to make their lives miserable, though he certainly had the power to do so, but at the same time he never did anything to make their lives any easier. Lucius Malfoy had earned the dubious honour of being the professor who assigned the most homework out of all the staff.

After a lesson regarding Grindelwald's reign of terror in continental Europe nearly seventy years previously, culminating in the Dark Wizard's imprisonment in his own fortress, Nurmengard, Rastaban hung back to speak with his uncle for the first time in a month.

"So, did he die in his cell? Sounds like he deserved to be there, being so passionate and willing to use the Dark Arts like that," he observed, hoping to start the conversation in a way that might not incite his uncle.

"The Dark Lord killed Grindelwald within a week of your birth. There are still some in Eastern Europe who believe that He did the world a great service that day, eliminating the man. By all accounts, though, he was no longer a threat at the time," Lucius responded, locking eyes with the boy. He knew what was coming.

"And you supported the ideas both had. Was it because you really wanted to? Or were you just trying to make your father proud?" Rast asked.

"Both, though I now regret it all, Rastaban. You wouldn't understand. Your – he –," he sputtered, almost blowing the cover of who Rastaban was descended from. Fortunately, the boy was too irate to notice the slip-up and did not realise that Lucius referred to Lord Voldemort.

"What's my father got to do with this? He's dead; I can't put him on trial for whatever it was he did. You're here, though, and I want you to know that I don't think I can ever forgive you. For your crimes in the past, for lying to me all my life, I can't do it. You don't know how it is for me, having this surname, being related to you. You have no idea," he rambled. He had lost his train of thought and was just releasing angry thoughts as they occurred to him.

"I'm keeping an eye on you, Uncle Lucius. We all are. And I may just not come back to you and Aunt Narcissa this summer if we feel you haven't been truly remorseful," He stated baldly, now throwing a cold stare at his uncle, at once both identical and wholly different from the look of anger that he had occasionally seen cross the elder man's face.

"You'll break her heart if you don't come home for summer, you know," Lucius replied.

"That's just something she'll have to deal with, then, isn't it?" Rast asked, more sarcastically than he had intended. He loved his aunt, but her part could not be forgiven so easily, either.

"You'll not speak in that tone of voice about your aunt, Rastaban," Lucius said icily, his nostrils flaring. "She's given everything for you, you know."

Rast knew, but any remorse he felt for that outburst was forgotten when he replied. "Yeah, I know. I've got one thing left before I go. Mum and dad, if I got left with you after they died, must have been huge supporters of You-Know-Who. Right?"

"They... They were the two most passionate supporters of the cause, far and away the most despicable souls I've ever met, now that I look at them with a clear mind," he stated delicately.

"A shame they got killed in the Battle of Hogwarts, then. They never had to answer to me," Rast stated, sounding far older than eleven. "Have a _good_ day, then. And remember, we won't let you slip back into your old ways. We've got an eye on you. Oh, and I hope Ravenclaw trounces Slytherin in the upcoming game."

With that, Rast left the room, leaving his uncle alone and somewhat relieved. The boy was angry, but that was to be expected. He was at least speaking to him again, which was a good sign. He looked down to the class roster again and saw the name Theodore Lupin, and remembered the Dark Lord's chiding voice. "_What say you, Draco?_ _Will you babysit the cubs?_" With a jolt he realised that he was teaching two of the youngest members of the House of Black, and that it was likely that neither knew of that fact.


	7. Chapter 6: The Snake Speaks

**Author's Note: sorry to have been absent. As I explained in my other running fic, I have been swamped with school and been unable to write for much of the time. Exams are next week, so I'll be free to write again all summer. Then I'll be able to update regularly again.**

Halloween was approaching and the castle took on its traditional spooky demeanour for the occasion. Peeves the poltergeist was ever the nuisance, bursting out of the great jack-o'-lanterns that Hagrid had placed around the castle. Professor Flitwick did his best to control the spirit, but there was nothing to be done.

Classes were taking on Halloween themes. Basic incendiary charms and the like were taught by Professor Clearwater, head of Ravenclaw House. Professor Longbottom taught them all how to carve their own jack-o'-lanterns in Herbology using Severing Charms. Even Professor Bones, Head of Hufflepuff and Transfiguration Professor, taught them how to turn oranges into small pumpkins.

Sitting down to breakfast on Halloween morning, the three young Gryffindors each reached for some toast before settling into one of their routine conversations.

"So, nothing yet to indicate that Professor Malfoy's lying, right, Rast?" Teddy asked, scraping some eggs onto his plate.

"Nothing yet, Ted. Anyone hear what he's planning for the Halloween lecture?" Rastaban replied.

"No. What is it?" Valerie inquired.

"That's why I was asking. No one's got the slightest clue. He wouldn't tell me as he thought it would spoil the surprise. That and he's still a bit miffed by how I spoke to him."

"Well, you did insult your aunt, mate. That's on you. Bet he wants to set a boggart on us. You know, figure out our fears and use them against us. Seems like what a Death Eater would do," Teddy observed, causing Rast to blush a little at his behaviour.

"That would be like a Death Eater. So, how are we going to keep an eye on him? We're eleven. It's not like we have much to work with," Rast brought this up because, though he had told his uncle that he would be watched, he had not given enough thought to how it would actually work.

"Muggle methods are right out, otherwise I'd ask mum," Valerie replied. "And we don't have invisibility cloaks or anything like that."

"We do have the portraits, though. We could convince one to keep watch, you know, and report back to us every weekend," Teddy thought out loud, to general approval.

"Now we just need to find a portrait willing to help out three first years to spy on the Head of Slytherin," Rast joked sarcastically.

Later that afternoon, the Gryffindors had their Defence class. All were interested in seeing what Professor Malfoy would do with them for Halloween. There was a large covered box in the centre of the classroom, around which all the desks had been arranged. Professor Malfoy entered after them and began to do the register.

"I am sure that you are all curious as to what I intend for this class on Halloween," he opened the lecture with, revelling in the anticipation of his students. "No doubt, some of you have considered the notion of introduction to a boggart."

He looked at his nephews and their friend, smiling slightly as he picked up by their posture that he had been right.

"Surely, those of you who believe I am not to be trusted would think that a boggart would be the perfect way for me to assess your weaknesses. However, I do not have a boggart here today. What I have here is far more dangerous, and I would like to give you three guesses as to what it is. There is a silencing charm on the creature, so do not try to make your guess after attempting to hear it. You will fail."

Three guesses were had within a minute, ranging from a Quintaped hatchling to a baby dragon. No one guessed the creature correctly, though, and they were positively shocked to see the creature in the terrarium once the covering was removed and the silencing charm lifted.

A small, orange and black-striped snake slithered as far out of sight as possible. Several students looked down at it disdainfully, clearly disappointed that this was all they were getting.

"A snake? Your special surprise for us, your incredibly dangerous lesson is a simple little snake? I bet it's not even poisonous," Martin complained loudly.

"Do not be deceived by what you think you have seen, Mr. Williams. Try to get another look, for I assure you that this is no ordinary snake," Professor Malfoy replied, a slight smile playing at his lips.

The students all peered in; interested to see just what it was that made this snake so different from any other snake they might have ever seen before. Rast took notice that the snake was silent, though he had no idea whether that was normal or not. He had never really seen a snake; the Malfoys had kept him away from dangerous creatures, both magical and mundane.

The snake retreated from its hiding place in search of a new one, hissing in a manner that Rast thought sounded like the words "_Go away._" And then, along with the rest of the class, he saw what his uncle intended for them to see. The snake was not a snake at all. Rather, it had three heads. It was a runespoor.

"It's illegal to keep a runespoor, Professor," Teddy said, looking at the man with a slight touch of fear.

"It is illegal, unless one has all the necessary permits, Mister Lupin. As an instructor of academia, I have the necessary permits. And at the hearing where the permits were approved, your godfather affirmed as a personal witness that I could be trusted to not violate the terms of agreement. There is no need to fear the runespoor, and there is no reason to fear me."

The students turned their attention back to the serpent, which had fallen silent again and was eagerly searching out a new hidey-hole. Being no more than eight inches long, it could not have hatched more than a few months prior.

As the end of class came and the other students began to leave, Rastaban stood transfixed by the creature. Two eyes stared back at six, and it seemed that the two had reached a silent agreement of friendship. Rastaban felt a sort of kinship with the beast, though he knew not why. Rastaban whispered to the snake on the way out.

"_I'll come back to see you some other time, you magnificent creature._"

The snake looked back at him blankly, and then, Rast could not believe it, the creature _nodded _at him. It then let out a long, slow hiss from all three mouths that sounded strangely like it was saying thanks. Without a second thought toward this, Rast left the room to catch up with his friends.

Lucius Malfoy watched this exchange with mild interest until Rastaban spoke to the snake. What had emerged from his nephew's mouth had not been words but rather a series of hisses, not unlike that which he had heard many times in the past. The boy had inherited his father's gift for Parseltongue.


	8. Chapter 7: Of Knights and Snakes

It was not a week later that Rast was determined to see that runespoor again. He, Teddy, and Valerie had been discussing this in Professor Longbottom's Herbology class. They were out in the greenhouse, going over seed types, which gave the trio ample time for talking and making funny faces at Teddy.

Teddy was scrunching up his face, trying to control his hair, but it was not cooperating. It fluctuated between a platinum blond similar to Professor Malfoy's and a dirty brown that blended in well with the soil. "I... just... want... red!" he grunted, eventually making his hair settle into a sort of brick red colour.

"Nice one, Ted. You've certainly started to get the hang of that now," Valerie said excitedly as Rast nodded his agreement. Teddy blushed, thinking that the encouragement of friends may have been playing key roles in his greater ability to tame his ability.

"Thanks. I wonder if mum had such a hard time with it for so long. It really doesn't seem like it should be so difficult," Ted reflected, thinking to ask his grandmother when the opportunity arose.

"Maybe it's just one of those abilities that is easier for girls to master," Rast suggested. "So, I've been thinking about that runespoor some more, and I think we could rescue it and keep it in the dormitory."

"I thought we told your uncle that it was illegal to have one of those without the proper permits. Weren't you listening?"Valerie asked, eyeing him quizzically as if to be sure he was thinking straight.

"Seems like a right stupid plan to me. Wouldn't a runespoor be poisonous, Rast?" Teddy commented in his own attempt to dissuade Rastaban from this notion.

"Nothing in any book I've read about them says that they're poisonous. As for the legality, I reckon that if Uncle Lucius has a permit to keep a runespoor, that permit will extend to his family, which would make it completely legal," he explained excitedly, proud of finding such a loophole in wizarding law so as to be able to keep such an exquisite creature.

"He's your uncle, though, Rast. Wouldn't it be right to say that the law would not apply?" Valerie inquired, no longer as confident in her legality argument.

"See, my parents are dead and my they adopted me. Legally, I'm a Malfoy and their son, and they're my guardians, so the permit should technically extend to me. And that means we can keep the runespoor," Rastaban proclaimed with utter delight.

"Let's just not deal with this inane scheme right now, guys," Teddy said, trying to lighten his hair as he talked. "What are we going to do about finding a portrait to watch over Professor Malfoy?"

"I talked to a few of the portraits the other day," Valerie began. "They told me there's this one, a knight, up near the Divination classroom that Professor Trelawney uses. The Fat Lady said that he had been a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole some time ago. I think we could get him to track Professor Malfoy."

"That sounds like a good plan, Val. So, how about we go find him now?" Rastaban asked. The glow in his eyes from his plan for the runespoor was still evident.

"Well, Rast, we're in a lesson right now. If you can wait ten minutes until we're done for the day, then sure, I suppose we could go find our knight," Teddy replied, chuckling slightly as Rastaban looked disappointed by the fact that they could not go immediately.

Once done with Herbology, the three young Gryffindors made their way up to the castle and to Gryffindor Tower, where they thought to drop off their things before trying to find this knight. Rastaban and Teddy took the staircase to the boy's dorm rooms, neither saying a word, though Rast winced when they passed the seventh year's dormitory.

"They haven't done anything like that since, have they, Rast?" Teddy asked once they were in the first year dormitory.

"No. I think they were just trying to scare me and get me to leave Hogwarts. But, I really don't think I want to get caught alone by them again," Rast replied, placing his Herbology textbook on his bedside table along with his others.

The two stayed silent for the rest of their time in the dormitory. Once back in the Common Room they waited for Valerie to return from her dormitory. Little was said, and when Valerie returned there was only a series of nods to indicate all were ready.

They stepped out of the portrait-hole and then turned around to face the Fat Lady.

"What was the name of that knight, if you could tell us?" Valerie asked politely, hoping the portrait would be helpful.

"You mean the one who guarded Gryffindor Tower for me? You're looking for Sir Cadogan, though I'm not entirely sure why..." the Fat Lady replied, muttering the last part to herself so that none of the three students before her could hear.

"Thanks!" they exclaimed in unison before making their way up toward the North Tower, hopeful the knight would be there.

The three asked the other portraits, and after being pointed in nearly seven different directions, they finally came upon the knight. He was short and scruffy, and an old monk appeared to be holding a sword just out of his reach. The knight's jumps were fruitless, as he simply could not get high enough to retrieve the sword.

"Hand back my sword, you fiend! Return my weapon to me at once, foulest coward!" The knight shouted, not seeing the three young people outside the portrait who watched on with amusement etched into their faces.

"And who might these loathsome beasts be that come to scorn my misfortune like many a braggart before?" Sir Cadogan asked indignantly. The monk put the sword down and left the portrait, apparently content that someone else would torment the knight. Seizing his weapon, Sir Cadogan shouted after the monk, "And do not return, you scurvy rogue!"

"Actually, we're here to beg a favour of you, sir Knight," Rast said politely, refraining from laughter.

"You seek me with a quest in mind, young squire?" Sir Cadogan asked, his interest obviously attained by this request.

"We do," Teddy replied as his hair settled to a light brown shade. "We would like for you to keep a watchful eye on one of the professors. You know who those are, right?"

"How could I not know? They often stop to mock my misfortune."

"You know who Professor Malfoy is, then. Right?" Valerie asked this time.

"Aye, I do indeed, fair lady. What would you like me to do, as it is evident that I am in no position to engage him with arms," the knight said, almost disappointed.

"Could you keep watch on him and report back to us if it seems like he is plotting to harm anyone?" Rastaban asked, hoping the knight would assent and be useful.

"Of course! I shall go forth immediately. Come, my steed! We ride again, for a quest has been bestowed upon us!" Sir Cadogan shouted with glee, mounting a fat pony that was grazing nearby.

"_This_ won't turn out to be a waste at all, Rast," Teddy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as the three returned to Gryffindor Tower.


	9. Chapter 8: Misunderstandings

Only a few days after Sir Cadogan had been found by the three children, shortly after the first Quidditch match of the season, in which Hufflepuff had tied with Ravenclaw at two hundred and ten points apiece, that Sir Cadogan's work following Lucius Malfoy finally resulted in some sort of progress. The knight had been hiding out in one of the portraits in Professor Malfoy's office, always trying to avoid the trio of Dark witches who sat, avidly discussing methods of torture.

His quarry, Professor Lucius Malfoy, appeared to always be writing letters or marking papers in his office. From his vantage point among the three evil witches, he could not make out what any of these letters said. This was why Sir Cadogan had stolen a telescope from one of the stargazing portraits near the Astronomy Tower, so that he could read what was to be transcribed and report back to the children who had given him this quest.

Focusing the telescope on the parchment the blond man was hastily scribbling on, he saw that this was some essay on Defence. He couldn't read every word that was used, as the professor's overly elaborate handwriting had a tendency to defy all comprehension. There were, though, still parts that he could understand.

The man had written "Cruciatus Curse" in the margins, buried in the midst of more of his flowery words. Topping the essay with an "A", he placed the parchment on a neat stack at the left corner of the desk. After he had done so, he opened the first drawer on the left side and retrieved a letter, something Sir Cadogan could not read, even with the telescope.

_Dearest Lucius,_

_I first want to remind you to try and find some time off on the 9__th__ of November. Little Scorpius would be devastated if he couldn't see his grandfather on his birthday. I know it's a Monday and you will have lessons, but I'm sure Professor Flitwick would understand. Of course, Rastaban won't be able to attend, but do try to remind him about his little cousin's birthday so he can decide what to get him. Scorpius has always loved Rastaban and Rastaban's been such a good influence on him._

_Now down to what I wanted to write to you about. I've been thinking ever since we sent Rastaban off on the Hogwarts Express, and I think I've decided what I want to do. You remember that I saw Andromeda. I've been thinking about how to talk to her, to apologise for everything. I don't want to lose her forever the way I lost Bellatrix, although Bellatrix as I knew her died the moment she started serving You-Know-Who._

_I only want to have a civil relationship with my only living sister, but there just doesn't seem to be something right about it just now. It's like I have to wait for the right moment to come to me before I should act. I know I've told you about the boy she was sending to Hogwarts, and how I think he's her grandson. I hope he's a good boy and not getting into any sort of trouble. I'd rather not have Rastaban being friends with children who will get him into trouble. Do try and talk to him when you can. I know you've never been one to be overly fatherly, but he does look up to you, even if he puts up the guise of hatred. Inwardly I'm sure he's proud that you've reformed yourself and knows that you have never tried to steer him into a Dark direction. You've done well by him, but it will take him some time to adjust to the truth and realise it._

_Do try not to give the Muggleborn children a hard time. I know you're still not overly thrilled by them or their blood, but please try. You've been doing so well these last eleven years, and I can't think what it would do to the family if you went back to your old attitudes. I know you're still learning to beat back the prejudices of our families, and I know what it is to re-evaluate everything you unquestioningly took to be truth. I just hope you continue to do it. It's tough, I know, dear, but it's worth it._

_Let me know if you can make it for the party,_

_Narcissa x_

Lucius read this letter for the second time. The first time he had done so, he immediately went to the Headmaster and requested that he have the time after his last class that Monday free to visit his grandson for his birthday. Professor Flitwick had agreed, and even offered to extend the courtesy to Rastaban if he chose to take it. Professor Flitwick had drafted a letter then and there and promised to send an owl to Rastaban on Sunday. It was Sunday now, and he wondered if the boy would want to go. He truly hoped so.

Taking out a piece of parchment, Lucius began to compose a reply to Narcissa.

_My Darling,_

_I spoke to Professor Flitwick and he was quite pleased to give me Monday night off to spend with Scorpius. He even sent Rastaban an offer of the same thing, though the lad has not yet made it known if he wishes to go. I think he will, though, due to his bond with Scorpius. I would never want to disappoint my grandson by not being able to see him on his birthday, and you know it._

_Now, allow me to inject my thoughts about your desire to speak with Andromeda. As you know, had I written this letter eleven years ago, my response would probably read as "I'll kill her for you, if you want. There's no reason for a witch of a Pureblooded family to run off with Mudblood scum and betray everything that is good and right in the world." However, I know better now, as you so put it in your letter. I support your decision to reopen relations with your sister. I even promise not to kill her. _

_I know; that was a horrible joke. _

_Allow me to say this, though. She may not wish to have relations with you. She walked out on your family when she was seventeen to marry a boy your parents would never approve of. It's been nearly forty years since, and you've only seen her twice since: at the reading of your Uncle Alphard's will and at the train station this past September. I think if she wanted to reacquaint herself with you, she would do so on her own terms. Forcing the issue could only drive her further away. _

_As for her grandson, Mr. Lupin is indeed in my class. He seems like a bright lad, though he has an annoying habit of wearing his hair green during my lectures. He also seems to be a good friend of Rastaban's, and as they have not managed to get in trouble, I suspect he is a well-behaved child. As for Rastaban's feelings toward me at the moment, I believe he still distrusts me. I'll let him take all the time he needs to see me for who I am and come to his own conclusions. He does not have to trust me if he does not want to, and I do not expect him to apologise if he decides he can trust me. The boy is proud, and I love him even when I would like to throttle him for being so incessantly stubborn._

_Do not worry. I've done my best to eliminate anti-Muggleborn sentiment from my speech and thoughts. I know it is an ongoing process, but I think I've done a good job since. I do want to change, and it is hard, but I feel I've made excellent progress._

_I'll see you tomorrow,_

_Lucius x_

Lucius finished this letter, from which Sir Cadogan could make out precious few of the words. What he did read was enough, going by what Rast, Teddy, and Valerie had later explained to him to look out for. He had seen, in the man's own handwriting "I'll kill her for you, if you want. There's no reason for a Pureblooded witch to run off with Mudblood scum and betray everything that is good and right in the world." He had also seen "I would like to throttle him for being so incessantly stubborn." He had names to go with each of these statements, Andromeda and Rastaban, and he hoped that the three children could do something about this man and his murderous, treacherous schemes. He ran off through the portraits to find them and report back his finding, as he had promised.

Shortly thereafter, Rastaban's owl, Marvolo, landed in Lucius' office. The owl had a note, which Lucius took. The owl remained on the desk, apparently disinterested in leaving just yet. Opening the note, Lucius read his nephew's handwriting.

_Uncle,_

_Of course I'll attend little Scorpius' birthday party. However, I'm only doing it on the condition that I can bring Teddy and Valerie along with. Four year olds are not exactly the best company for someone my age. _

_Rast_

_P.S. I'm still trying to figure out if I trust you or not. Aunt Narcissa is okay, but it'll take me a bit to figure you out. Remember, we're watching you._

Lucius smiled for a second. That boy was anything if not persistent, and he certainly knew how to get what he wanted. He ignored the post script, figuring that Rastaban would eventually come around. Taking out the letter he had written for his wife, and noticing that Marvolo was still present, he wrote a hasty addendum.

_P.S. Rastaban has just informed me that he will be joining in the festivities, as well as bringing his friends Valerie Wood and Teddy Lupin. _

Putting the letter in an envelope and sealing it with the Malfoy seal, Lucius watched Marvolo stick his leg out, as if he had been waiting to bring a letter from him. Tying the letter to the bird's leg, Lucius told the owl to bring it home. With a hoot, the owl was out the window and flying into the night.


	10. Chapter 9: Scorpius Malfoy

**A/N I can't believe I managed to unconsciously skip this one, my favourite chapter, too. gonna have to fix the latest chapter to let everyone know to go back to chapter 10 for this.**

_Chapter 9: Scorpius Malfoy_

Up in the Gryffindor first year boys' dormitory, Rast, Teddy, and Valerie sat together, discussing the birthday party set for the next day. Rast was gesticulating wildly, pointing out that with three of them, they could check the manor for anything suspicious, and always keep an eye on Lucius.

Valerie shook her head. "Rast, I know you mean well, but you can't just invite us like that. If your uncle is as bad as you think, then what are we doing going to his house? I'm a half-blood! Teddy's a half-blood! He'd hold that as a good enough reason for us to be chucked out!"

Teddy nodded his agreement, his hair turning a vibrant shade of purple, and Rast could not tell if it had been intentional or not. Teddy was getting better at controlling his powers every day now. "We will come with you, of course. We just don't think you thought it through completely when you wrote the note to your uncle. Let's just enjoy the party and see how your uncle behaves."

As they went to bed, the three did not know that Sir Cadogan was waiting in a portrait near that of the Fat Lady, hoping to see them and alert them to the news he had just learned.

The three left Gryffindor Tower in the morning, hoping to find breakfast in the Great Hall. They walked right past the portrait that held a sleeping Sir Cadogan and did not see him once that day.

Their classes passed quickly, as they slept through History of Magic and managed to play around through most of their Charms class before igniting the feather like they were supposed to. Defence Against the Dark Arts was a history lesson this time, covering Grindelwald's involvement in what the Muggles called World War II.

Apparently Grindelwald had used the Imperius Curse to get a puppet in the Muggle government in Germany, who convinced the German Muggles that other Muggles with slightly different features were abominations to humanity and should be put to death. Eventually Grindelwald released the Muggle called Hitler from the Imperius Curse, but he had been under the spell's effects for so long he couldn't tell his own thoughts from those that had been suggested to him by the curse, and continued anyway. This all flew right over Rastaban and Teddy's heads and all they took from the lesson was that Grindelwald was a grade A git.

Once the lesson ended, Rast, Teddy, and Valerie all packed their things and started toward the door with the rest of the class. Professor Malfoy cleared his throat loudly and they turned around. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, clearly fighting his natural instinct to sneer at them.

"We were going up to eat. Classes are done for the day," Rastaban said plainly to his uncle, who simply raised his eyebrow.

"And how do you intend to get to the party for Scorpius if you do that? I hope you do not believe that we would not be serving a meal," he replied, fully sneering at his nephew at this point. Sometimes the boy needed a good talking down to, Lucius thought. "Leave your things upstairs in my office; it will be warded so that intruders cannot enter."

The three students stepped through the door at the back of the classroom and climbed the short flight of stairs leading to Professor Malfoy's office. They entered and marvelled at what they saw. There were several bookcases, each filled to the brim with books. The desk was a perfectly ordered collection of quills and parchment. "Even Uncle Percy's desk at the Ministry isn't this neat," Teddy breathed, clearly surprised.

Valerie was looking at one of the bookshelves while the boys looked up at the photographs and portraits. Many Dark wizards looked down at the three with contempt, although they said nothing. From two large wall scrolls, a pair of dark towers faced each other from opposite sides of the room. One rose from the sea, waves crashing against its sides violently. That had to be Azkaban. The other stood in the mountains, where a blizzard raged against it. That one had to be Nurmengard, as they could just make out that the gate near the bottom of the picture said 'For the Greater Good'.

Lucius stood at the threshold and simply watched as the three children forgot all manners and began exploring his office. He watched as the Wood girl took an interest in his bookshelves, noticing that she had passed over his case of Dark Arts books. Rather, she seemed to be examining his books on Muggles and Muggle society, which he had been reading to try and better understand their sort. He let them carry on for another minute before he cleared his throat – one of the least offensive ways he knew to alert them to his presence – and pointed them toward the fireplace.

Rastaban went first so the other two would hear him before they went off to the wrong location. Pinching a bit of Floo powder between his fingers, he chucked it into the fireplace, stepped into the emerald flames, and shouted "Malfoy Manor!"

He whirled about in the Floo network, seeing hundreds of other grates before he was finally spat out of the one he knew best – the fireplace in the sitting room at home. As he stood to brush himself off and get out of the way of his friends, who would surely be arriving any second, a small child ran up to and nearly toppled him over with the force of his hug.

"Rast! Rast, Rast, Rast, Rast, Rast!" Little Scorpius Malfoy hugged his cousin around the middle very tightly, gluing them both in place until Teddy popped out the fireplace and took Rast out at the knees. All three stood up, and Scorpius looked at Teddy sternly. Teddy blushed crimson a bit, and his hair changed to match as he said "Sorry, mates."

Scorpius watched Teddy's hair change and yelled "Cool! What's your name? I'm Scorpius! Do it again!"

"I'm Teddy," he said, not unused to the excited rabble of small children. Albus was this boy's age, after all, and he was used to that. "Why don't you show me around and I'll change my hair all you want?"

"Okay!" Scorpius grabbed Teddy by the wrist and started to drag him to the next room over. "Come _on_! We're going to the kitchen!" he urged as Valerie came out of the fireplace.

"Where's Teddy? He went in just before me," she asked, having missed him by a second, not noticing Mrs. Malfoy standing off in the corner watching Rastaban greet his friends into his home.

"He got dragged off by Scorp. The little guy seems to really like Teddy; I think it's because he saw him change his hair colour."

They stepped deftly out of the way a few seconds later as Lucius Malfoy clambered out of the grate and righted himself. With a wave of his wand he was dusted off, and immediately surveyed the room. "Where has Mr. Lupin gone?"

"Scorpius is giving him the grand tour," Rast laughed. The house was huge, and a full tour could take several hours.

"I'll go find them," Narcissa said pleasantly, stepping out from her corner.

"And I shall locate the other runts. Draco and Astoria have a handful in Scorpius alone, and I can't imagine them handling another nine at the moment," Lucius drawled, following his wife out the door.

"That is my family at home, Valerie," Rast noted, sitting on one of the many sofas and gesturing for Valerie to do the same. She did, and turned to look him in his eyes.

"Your aunt seems nice enough. And your uncle seems more easygoing here. Maybe we were wrong about him?"

"Maybe. And yeah, she's a great aunt. Always good to me and Scorp," Rastaban sighed, looking up at the photograph on the mantel. "See that photograph there? Aunt Narcissa is helping me hold Scorpius, and Uncle Lucius is sitting on the sofa, reading. Draco and Astoria were so happy to see me holding their son. I think he was about a month old when we had that taken."

Valerie looked and watched the photograph as a seven year old Rast smiled to the camera with a baby in his arms. She saw Professor Malfoy reading a book that looked vaguely familiar, and Mrs. Malfoy was now dabbing Scorpius' chin with a handkerchief. There was no doubt about it; the Malfoy clan had found happiness and family after the war.

"You wouldn't believe where I found them," Narcissa exhaled as she led Teddy and Scorpius to the sitting room, just a few minutes later. Teddy sat down by Rastaban, and Scorpius climbed up onto Rast's lap, laughing every few seconds when Teddy would change his hair.

"Was he teaching you how to play with blocks, Teddy?" Rast smiled, taking the opportunity to tease Scorpius about the fact that he still preferred blocks to the toy broomstick he had received his previous birthday.

"No, Rast. No blocks at all," his friend replied, grinning and clearly holding his laughter inside.



"Scorpius decided that his grand tour should include an explanation of the toilet to your friend, Rastaban. He seemed to be pointing out the merits of the toilet as a habitat for frogspawn when I got there," Narcissa stated seriously, though Rast could detect a hint of amusement in her voice.

"It is!" Scorpius protested. "The tadpoles swim, and there's water, and they need water to swim, and –"

"And the toilet will flush and your tadpoles would die, Scorp," a tall wizard with short, white-blond hair said, bending to his knee to receive the child who was running full tilt at him. "I've been trying to explain this to you for a week, now. Honestly, you can't believe everything Vince tells you. I'm not raising any mug here, you know."

He set the child down, and Scorpius spied his mother and grandfather leading a small troop of children through the kitchen.

"The boy is just so daft sometimes, Mum," Draco said as soon as the boy had joined his friends. "Hey, Rast. How's it going, kid?"

"I'm doing fine. How are you, Draco?" he replied, returning the question to his only and favourite cousin.

"Things could be better. Between you lot and me," he said, motioning to the three first year students in front of him. "Astoria thinks I should join the Cannons and help them a bit with getting up to the standard the other teams have."

Valerie, Rastaban, and Narcissa all sniggered. Teddy, whose hair could only be described as Weasley orange at the moment, said "Uncle Ron's favourite team is the Cannons. I think he'd like to see them do better."

Draco turned his attention to the boy, and simply said "And which of the Weasleys is your father? Can't be Ginny or Ronald; no one my age should really have a child your age," he noted as an afterthought, without the slightest hint of a sneer. Rather, there was a bit of embarrassment in his voice.

"I'm not a Weasley, sir," Teddy said jovially. "I mean, I'm like family to them, but my parents weren't related at all to them."

"May I be so bold as to ask who your parents are?" Draco asked, politely.

"Well, they were Remus Lupin and Tonks," Teddy replied, remembering how his grandmother always told him that his mother could not stand to be called Nymphadora. He'd decided to never refer to her as such ever again once he knew that. "But I live with my Gran now, because of the war."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Draco said, as he glanced toward his mother. A flicker of understanding seemed to pass between them, but none of the children seemed to notice. Lucius, meanwhile, had 

finally formed a queue out of the rambunctious group of children and was marching them into the sitting room for supper, cake, and presents.

* * *

After a wonderful roasted lamb and potatoes prepared by both of the Malfoy wives, the many children scrambled over each other to find good spots to sit at while Scorpius opened his presents before the cake was served. This took some time, as several children stopped to gawk at Teddy's hair, having never seen anything like it before. Valerie was giggling at this, and even Rast was amused.

"Now, now, everyone settle down so we can move through the gifts quickly. You all want cake, don't you?" Astoria called out. Within seconds, every child was seated. "Alright, then. Let's start with this one, from Gary, Vince, and Ed."

She picked up a rather large and lumpy package and handed it to Scorpius. Rast looked at the three brothers, all within a year of Scorpius' age, and recognised the Goyle boys. He'd never liked Mr. Goyle that much, but he didn't begrudge Draco his friendship with the man, when clearly no one else would be. He didn't really see the point in questioning his cousin's friendships, as he placed the blame for any negativity in Draco on his uncle.

Scorpius tore into the package and started to pull out everything inside. There were several miniature pewter broomsticks that floated in midair, and then there were miniature Quidditch Players who walked around. Rast took a look and saw that they were replicas of the players for the Falmouth Falcons and the Holyhead Harpies, current as of six years prior. And then there was the miniature pitch and Quidditch balls. The whole set was beautiful, and Rast felt overjoyed for Scorpius. He thought it would be a blast to spend his vacation time using his wand to recreate matches for the little guy.

"Thanks!" Scorpius exclaimed as he tried to make the figure of Gwenog Jones mount her broom.

"This one is from Bill and Ginger," Astoria said, handing over a small, rectangular package. Rast recognised the Nott twins, though he felt no particular affinity for their family.

Scorpius opened this one and seemed to like that it was a book. He held it up for his grandparents to see and then hugged it tightly. The book was clearly old.

"I think that's a copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_," Lucius commented, watching as his grandson set the book down carefully before resuming his attempts to make the Holyhead captain get on a broomstick.

"We have this one from Arnold and Victoria," Astoria continued, handing over a large bag from the Zabinis. Arnold was nearly six, but Victoria was Scorpius' age.

Scorpius started pulling things out of the bag and Lucius' eyes widened as he whispered almost imperceptibly "Not in my house."

Scorpius was now holding two boxes. One was labelled "Weasley's Wildfire Whizbangs: Deflagration Deluxe Package!" and the other "Portable Swamp".

Draco immediately summoned them over to his side and said "I'll hold onto these, son. We don't need any accidents." He then gave Rast a pointed look that said Scorpius would never see those gifts again, if he could help it. There was no point in giving a four year old access to such mayhem, after all.

The next two gifts, from Martin Higgs and Ambrosia Carmichael, were a new toy broomstick and a large box full of toffee éclairs. Scorpius looked at the éclairs and knew he would be set for dessert for a very long time, and looked at the new toy broomstick with mild interest. It was improved after the old one he already had, but Scorpius did not show much of an interest in flying just yet.

Finally, there was the gift from the whole Malfoy clan. Lucius left the room to go retrieve the gift. Rast had given the rest of the family the idea when he had seen Scorpius react to the animals at the Magical Menagerie. He had particularly reacted to a large, black cat. When Lucius returned, holding said cat, Scorpius jumped up.

"Kitty! Grandpa, Grandma, Mummy, Daddy, Rast, look at the kitty!" he squealed, pure joy etched into his little face. The cat, for the most part, looked completely terrified by all the attention it was now receiving from the other nine small children. After the hubbub died down, Narcissa served cake and the cat ran off to find a place to hide until the noise died down. Rast, Teddy, and Valerie all accepted a slice, and conversed about the party while they ate.

"Well, your family seems to be a lot better than we gave them credit for, Rast," Valerie said quietly, in between bites. "Look at them. Your cousin and his wife get on great with you; their son absolutely adores you, and Teddy, too. Your aunt and you seem to have this understanding, and even Professor Malfoy seems to have a soft spot for all of you."

"I'm with her, Rast. Maybe we overreacted. Maybe he has changed. No way would a Death Eater who hasn't reformed greatly accept half-bloods like us into his home to celebrate his grandson's birthday."

"I guess so," Rast said, his theories about his uncle finally falling. "I suppose I'll have to accept him the way he is, eh?"

* * *

After the party had ended and the children had been escorted home, Rast went to go say goodbye to his cousins and their child. Draco had the various gifts slung about his arm, and simply said "He's never touching those fireworks. Too dangerous for a kid like him. Maybe next year, though, if you want them?"

Rast laughed in spite of himself. Astoria had turned Draco into quite the protective parent. "Send me the swamp for Christmas and the fireworks for my birthday. We'll see what kind of trouble I can make with those."

"Done," Draco replied, giving his best smirk to the boy.

Rast gave Draco a warm hug, and Draco responded by clapping the boy on the shoulder with his free hand. Astoria bent down and kissed him on the cheek, thanking him for being there to see Scorpius. Scorpius stood by his mother's feet and looked up at Rast. "I want a Teddy!" he said, drawing laughs from his parents and Rast.

"I don't think I can give him to you, little man. He rather likes things the way they are. I'm sure he'll see you again, though," Rast assured the boy. "I've got to go now. Be good for your mum and dad, alright?"

"Okay. I can do that!" Scorpius exclaimed after him as Rast went back to the sitting room to Floo back to Hogwarts with his friends and uncle.

* * *

Rastaban, Teddy, and Valerie had just reached the Fat Lady's portrait after having Flooed to Lucius' office. They were exhausted by the sheer energy of those children, and they wanted nothing better than to get inside and crawl into their nice, cosy beds. They were about to say the password when they heard a clanging noise, and looked behind them to see Sir Cadogan.

"My quest is complete, and I bring to you the information you seek," he said.


	11. Chapter 10: Princely Advice

_Chapter 10: Princely Advice_

"My quest is complete, and I bring to you the information you seek," Sir Cadogan repeated to the three stunned first year students who had only just been in the process of entering Gryffindor Tower.

"What?" Teddy and Rastaban asked at once, while Valerie shook her head in disbelief.

"I have uncovered a most foul scheme by your detested Professor Malfoy. I caught him in the act of plotting two assuredly heinous murders," The knight explained seriously, stepping down from the fat pony he had waited dutifully upon. "I arrived late last night to give you my report, but I fear I fell asleep and did not encounter you as you left your quarters this morning. I have brought shame on the House of Cadogan."

"You've got to be kidding me," Teddy muttered, only having just recently helped his friend get over his fears and anxieties about his uncle.

"Tell us," Rast said, seemingly forgetting about his earlier decision that he accept his uncle and forgive the man.

"I was witness to written plots of murder against two innocents. One came shortly after the use of the name Rastaban and seemed to refer to him," Sir Cadogan said, watching carefully to make sure the students understood the gravity of what he was saying. "He wrote down that he would like to throttle this Rastaban for being incredibly stubborn."

"Well, I feel that way, too, sometimes," Valerie scoffed. She looked her friend straight in the eye. "You seem to latch onto an idea and refuse to let it go. It's really not a good trait."

"She's right," Rast said, looking at the portrait. "I don't think we went a week back at the manor without Uncle Lucius telling me he wanted to strangle me for some reason. I think Aunt Narcissa even agreed with him when I named Marvolo," he laughed. "Nothing a hunger strike couldn't fix, though."

"Well, that notwithstanding, the other threat seems far greater. I did not see to whom he was writing this letter that contained such an evil plot, but he noted that there was no reason for a Pureblooded witch to run off with Mudblood scum. He offered to kill this woman, whose name, I recall, was Andromeda," Sir Cadogan supplied, causing the colour to drain from Teddy's face. His hair turned white and he stood, with mouth agape.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked a minute later. He was trembling now, both with rage and confusion.

"I mean that your Professor Malfoy seems intent on killing this woman. Do you know her?" the knight asked.

"SHE'S MY GRANDMOTHER!" Teddy shouted at the portrait. "We have to go stop him now, guys. If he's planning on killing my Gran, then I don't want to waste any time."

"Alright. Thanks, Sir Cadogan, but we have to go now before Teddy goes round the bend," Valerie said, grabbing hold of Teddy's arm for fear he might fall down in a dead faint. Sir Cadogan gave her a salute and rode off on his fat steed, slipping out of the saddle only to end up chasing after it. "Come on, Rast, we have to get to your uncle and get to the bottom of this."

Rast placed his hand on Teddy's other elbow and together he and Valerie led Teddy to the dungeons, to Professor Malfoy's office. They knocked, bringing down the silver coiled snake on the door to announce their presence. A long moment later Professor Malfoy opened the door to find his nephew and Valerie Wood holding a half-unconscious and half-enraged Teddy Lupin.

Lucius let a moment pass in which he thought that Bellatrix would be disappointed in her son's emotional state at this moment, but delighted by her great-nephew's fury. He nearly slid into his characteristic smirk and sneer before catching himself. "What can I do for you three?" he drawled.

"YOU WANT TO –" Teddy managed to yell out before Valerie clapped a hand over his mouth, muffling his voice.

"Can we come in and make it so sounds can't get out of the office? Teddy's going to yell for a while, I think, and we don't need him waking the whole castle," Rast explained as he and Valerie pushed their way into the office without waiting for permission. Lucius, for his part, merely nodded at them and closed the door behind him, muttering a quick spell as he did so.

"So then, what is this about?" Lucius asked, looking at the three students in turn, catching something out of the corner of his eye off by the wall. That would be something to investigate later. He put it out of mind and returned his attention to the boy with furious red hair.

"YOU'RE TYRING TO KILL MY GRANDMOTHER YOU SICK, PATHETIC SON OF A BITCH!" Teddy yelled, and Rast put his hand over his friend's mouth. Teddy kept on going, despite the blockage that prevented his words from emerging as anything more than a garbled mess. Lucius knew well enough that the boy was irate enough to put a sailor to shame, and was probably doing his best to do just that.

"I'm not trying to kill your grandmother, Mr. Lupin. You seem to be woefully misinformed on that notion. I wish Andromeda nothing but happiness, to be quite frank with you," Lucius drawled on.

"How can we believe that?" Rast asked, struggling to keep Teddy from breaking away to physically assault his uncle. "Sir Cadogan saw you write it in a letter. He saw you write that you would gladly kill her because she's a Pureblood who ran off with 'Mudblood scum.'"

"Ah," Lucius breathed, rolling his eyes slightly. "I wrote that letter to your aunt, actually. Give me a moment to get her in the Floo to read off what I wrote. I think you'll find that it will clear things up."

He took a pinch of Floo powder and threw it into the grate that had only been used an hour earlier to transport them all to Hogwarts from Malfoy Manor. He plunged his head into the green flames, looking somewhat ridiculous even to those completely used to fire calling. After a minute he removed his head from the fire and stepped aside, allowing the children a look at the fire. Narcissa Malfoy's head appeared in the flames, and looked up at them all.

"I don't know how you lot found out about the letter Lucius wrote to me the other day. However, I'll clear this all up in a few moments," she said, bestowing a deeply sorrowful look on Teddy, who still had a hard, angry look about him.

"First, Andromeda and I were great friends when we were younger, and we would often play together when we were young girls," she explained. "That should clear up how we even know your grandmother, Theodore."

Teddy nodded, waiting to see what else she would say. He didn't hate Narcissa Malfoy, but he certainly didn't like her husband and could not trust him until he heard the woman out.

"Anyway, I'll read out from the letter, the part you seem to have become concerned about." A hand appeared in the fireplace, gripping a piece of parchment. "Let's see... there we go. 'Now, allow me to inject my thoughts about your desire to speak with Andromeda. As you know, had I written this letter eleven years ago, my response would probably read as "I'll kill her for you, if you want. There's no reason for a witch of a Pureblooded family to run off with Mudblood scum and betray everything that is good and right in the world." However, I know better now, as you so put it in your letter. I support your decision to reopen relations. I even promise not to kill her. I know; that was a horrible joke.'"

"That is a pretty bad joke, Uncle Lucius," Rast commented after a long and pregnant pause, hoping to bring some levity back to the room. Valerie stifled a small chuckle, and Teddy nearly smiled.

"You swear that that's all it was, a recollection of what he once would have said?" Teddy asked.

"That is the truth of it, Theodore. I assure you, Lucius does not want to kill your grandmother, and neither do I. In fact, I would rather like if we might be able to become friends again," she said, though Lucius could see in her eyes that Andromeda meant so much more than that to his wife.

"I'm sorry, then, to have made you have to come in through the Floo to clear this up. And I'm sorry about yelling at you, Professor," Teddy answered, his hair as pink as his face.

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Lupin. Your reaction was quite understandable given what you believed. Now run along; you still have classes tomorrow, and you should probably get some sleep."

The three first year students complied and vacated the office within moments. Lucius looked down to the fire and saw that Narcissa had remained there, waiting for them to go.

"Thank you for omitting any reference I made to her being your sister. I don't want him knowing that yet, because it will lead to him finding out about his mother, and I don't think he's at all ready for that."

"I agree, but I wish we didn't have to lie to him like that. He deserves to know."

"I know he does, but I don't think he's ready for it just yet. He's too young."

"It doesn't do to lie to young children, Lucius. Nor does it do to unload such unpleasant truths on them, Narcissa," a silky smooth voice spoke out from out in the room. Lucius looked up, finding the source of the voice in a portrait on the opposite end of his study. A man with sallow skin and long, greasy black hair lounged on a throne comprised of human bones, waving off the throne's owner with one hand as he stared intently at his former friends.

" Severus," Lucius said, his eyes widening in surprise. "I thought I saw you earlier."

"Are you well?" Narcissa asked from the grate.

"I am as well as a piece of canvas coated with paint can be, Narcissa," Snape said, lightly coating his words with his acidic tongue as he stroked his goatee in apparent thought. Few could match their sarcasm against that of Severus Snape, even when he was having an off day. "I just wanted to let you two know something, and potentially impart a bit of advice. Although that part may be difficult if all the old stories about blondes are true."

"Then speak, my friend," Lucius invited, choosing to ignore the jab at his intelligence.

"You seem to have done a far better job at raising the boy than your sister would have, although she never really seemed the maternal sort, Narcissa. From what I've seen, though, in lurking your classroom, Lucius, he is an intelligent lad," Snape complimented, something rare indeed. "He hungers for knowledge, and he will undoubtedly seek out the information you keep from him. However, he is not old enough to know just yet. I know a few things, though, and I can guide him to the information when he is ready, and keep him on the longest possible track to it until that time."

"You want to help us keep him from knowing by helping him slowly put it together?" Lucius muttered uncertainly.

"Yes. I will be in the Headmaster's office if you wish to inquire as to my methods at a later date. _This_ wretch," he gestured to the Dark wizard who still attempted to reclaim his throne, "seems like he should sit down, and I grow uncomfortable here. I bid you a pleasant night."

With that the man swept out of the portrait dramatically, and the Dark wizard scrambled back onto his throne, wearing a suitably depraved, toothless grin at having driven away the intruder. Lucius and Narcissa shared a long, meaningful look before Narcissa's head left the fire. They would acquiesce to their old friend's advice and methods. He would never steer them in the wrong direction.


	12. Chapter 11: The Serpent's Way

**A/N - poll in my profile for after you read this chapter. Also, please go back to chapter 10, and read Chapter 9: Scorpius Malfoy if you've gotten this far already. I sort of accidentally skipped a chapter in my updates, so I'm putting it in now. It's the one with Scorpius' birthday, and I really didn't mean to screw up and not add it. Sorry everyone.  
**

_Chapter 11: The Serpent's Way_

After the incident on Scorpius' birthday, Teddy, Rast, and Valerie took themselves to bed, agreeing to discuss it all during breakfast the next morning. They didn't, though, owing in part to the fact that Teddy and Rast overslept. Their classes that day also prevented discussion; Professor Clearwater demanded absolute attention that day, Professor Zabini had a difficult potion set for them to brew, and Professor Longbottom was busy making them take notes on seed germination in the Venomous Tentacula.

In fact, the first year students were virtually stripped of their free time for nearly two weeks, preventing the three from having much opportunity to discuss anything at all. On a dreary late November day, however, Herbology classes were cancelled and Rast, Teddy, and Valerie were able to set aside their History of Magic essays to finally discuss what had happened.

"So, we've settled it. Professor Malfoy isn't trying to hurt Muggleborns and Blood-Traitors. He's given up being a Death Eater, and he really wants to be a good teacher. He's even trying to raise Rast to be a really, really good kid with a squeaky-clean record. That about sums it up, eh?" Teddy ticked off the thoughts in his head by holding up a finger for each one.

"That sounds about right," Rast answered. "I'm glad he doesn't want to kill your grandmother, Ted."

"I also noticed a lot of books on Muggle culture on one of his bookshelves. He seemed to have a large collection of Muggle novels, as well, the kinds of things Muggles term 'high fantasy,'" Valerie noted.

"Really? I never knew he was into reading fiction," Rast replied, astonished. "What's 'high fantasy' mean?"

Valerie sighed. Sometimes she thought it was silly the kinds of things these boys didn't know about Muggles, but then again, she couldn't blame them. They were raised by Purebloods, after all, whereas her mother was a Muggleborn.

"High fantasy is a Muggle genre where there's a lot of magic, an epic quest of some kind, and the story takes place in a sort of medieval-inspired time. There are lots of knights and swords and sorcery and stuff. It's all nonsense and shows how little Muggles understand magic, but it still makes for good reading," she explained. "I found one on his shelf called _Belgarath the Sorcerer_, and I'm pretty sure my mother has the same book at home, right next to my dad's encyclopædia of basketball."

"That actually sounds pretty cool. So, let's add to the list – Uncle Lucius likes Muggle literature and seems interested in Muggle culture," Rast added as Teddy held up another finger. "I wonder what basketball is."

"We'll explain that to you another time, Rast. Definitely sounds like reform to me. His Death Eater days are long past, it seems," Teddy stated emphatically, to agreeable nods from Valerie and Rastaban.

"So, now that we've cleared that up, we can get back to getting that runespoor in here as our pet," Rast supplied, his eyes wide with glee.

"And how do you suppose we do that?" Valerie questioned him, clearly thinking the very notion foolhardy.

"I've got it all worked out. See, when it comes time for break –"

* * *

Severus Snape usually waited in his portrait in the Headmaster's office, looking irritably at the sleeping form of Albus Dumbledore in the portrait next to him. He sighed, understanding that until Minerva died, he would be stuck with only Albus for neighbourly conversation, forevermore to be subject to the man's offers of sherbet lemons and other inane Muggle confections. However, this time, he was not in his frame in the Headmaster's office while he thought.

As he always did when Dumbledore slept and ceased his bothersome behaviour, Snape considered his life and the series of events that led him to his current position. He had been Headmaster, though he had resented the position. He had died, though his death came in a supremely ignoble fashion. He had been reviled for five years, his memory spat on despite Harry Potter's attempts to clear Snape's name.

Then, one day while Minerva had been serving as Headmistress, Snape appeared in her office, asleep, though he was only so for a few minutes. When he had awoken, he was startled by his own presence there, and immediately tried to hide himself from view. His attempt was to no avail, however, as Dumbledore immediately let out his greeting.

"Severus! How splendid to see you again! I am so glad that Harry has come through with his promise to get you in here."

"If you're telling me that I owe yet another debt to Potter, Headmaster, then you will find me ill-equipped to pay up. I am dead, and have been happily dead if my imaginings are to be trusted, and I owe the boy nothing."

"That boy is now a man, Severus," Minerva had said, looking at the portrait of her former colleague. "He has gone on to do great things, not the least of which was getting you put in here. He lobbied the Ministry for five years and then asked Professor Dumbledore's permission to use the Elder Wand to create your portrait when the castle refused to capitulate. He left only a few minutes ago. He seemed to think that now was not the time to speak with you."

Snape had remained quiet since then, not speaking to Headmistress McGonagall, Headmaster Flitwick after Minerva had stepped down, or any of the other former Heads of Hogwarts. He had remained so for six years, not speaking, always seemingly asleep in his frame, until he heard the rumour that Professor Flitwick had appointed Lucius Malfoy to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. Since then, he had lurked the office Lucius had selected in the dungeons, the very same office Snape had used when he was still alive.

Often, he would stand in the shadow of Nurmengard, made tiny and unnoticeable as he stood in that wall scroll. At other times, he stood atop Azkaban, shrouded in shadow as the forms of several Dementors glided about, their heart-freezing abilities still present in diminished capacity, even in portrait form. After he had revealed himself to Lucius, though, he had stalked up to the Fat Lady, taking the shortcuts he knew from his many years in the castle. He waited in the corner of her frame, and as the three first year Gryffindors were permitted entrance he quietly slipped inside, finally choosing to rest in a portrait of a lion's den.

When the three came down from their dormitories several weeks later, apparently discussing a runespoor that Snape had seen the boy speak to, Severus seized his opportunity. Standing up and brushing himself off, the hook-nosed former Headmaster looked down at the students and cleared his throat. They stopped and looked around before their eyes finally settled on the man in the frame just above them.

"I can give you the opening you want to get that serpent, if you so wish. Professor Malfoy will not stop you."

"Um, thanks, I guess," Rast said as the strange man in the portrait walked out of the frame. "Does anyone know who that was?"

Neither Teddy nor Valerie could identify the man in the portrait, but they thought it prudent to hear from him again before making a move on the runespoor, if he could truly guarantee them the snake.

* * *

"I can keep them off the trail of the boy's ancestry for a time if you choose to go along with what I propose, Lucius," Snape began, looking down at the blond man who sat at the desk, Muggle fantasy novel in one hand and quill in the other.

"What do you want me to go along with, Severus?"

"The boy desires the runespoor you had in your classroom on Halloween. I'm inclined to believe that this might distract him for a bit, and that you should leave the runespoor in a cage that can easily be accessed. They will want to sneak in here and feel they have accomplished something, so do set a Caterwauling Charm or a Jelly-Legs Jinx to activate when the cage is moved, to better provide them that sense of accomplishment. I would advise that you do this and make certain that your absence from your office at times they could carry out their mission is conspicuous enough for them to make an attempt."

"Are you aware that the boy is a Parselmouth? If he gets that runespoor into Gryffindor Tower and this manages to get out... Those seventh years will not tolerate it. They'll hurt him," Lucius said, pleadingly.

"Then I suggest you prepare to tell him that his mother was a raving lunatic who killed more people than even Grindelwald did, and that his father was the Dark Lord. Or would you rather go with the first idea and just let him have another pet?" Snape replied, his voice cold, his eyes devoid of emotion.

"Fine, I'll do it."

* * *

It was the last day before Teddy, Valerie, and Rast would go home for the holidays, and there had yet to be a good opportunity to rescue the runespoor. At every turn, Professor Malfoy seemed to be around the corner, and they had to be turned back from their attempt at the quest. They still did not know the mysterious portrait who had guaranteed them that he could keep Professor Malfoy out of his office, and while the man had been out of his office often, they grew weary of trusting the advice that they had been given.

Not being adept sneaks, the three made somewhat predictable forays into the dungeons to reach their destination, always being caught on one of Professor Malfoy's regular patrols. The sallow looking portrait seemed quite comfortable in the Gryffindor Common Room and seemed to encourage them daily by saying "Perhaps the _fifteenth_ time will be the charm" or other such things. Rast, and eventually Teddy and Valerie, chose to ignore him when he did this. They were bordering on frustration, though, one day in mid-December they tried to take a different route. This proved fortuitous, as they did not encounter the Professor on their way to his office, and carefully made their way inside.

The snake sat in a terrarium atop Professor Malfoy's desk, in plain sight and without any apparent protection. As eleven year old children are wont to do, they rushed forward toward their goal, never once thinking that there might be danger in doing so. Rast reached a hand into the glass box and the runespoor coiled around his wrist and slithered up to his shoulder. The snake hissed once, and Rast nodded in comprehension. As he drew away from the terrarium, though, he faltered, and nearly fell.

"A Jelly-Legs Jinx? That's Professor Malfoy's great protection around the Runespoor?" Valerie asked, unbelieving. After she had mended the other's legs and they had gotten into the corridor, they immediately had to duck into an alcove. Professor Malfoy stole past them, holding a wailing golden pendant. With sudden realisation, the three understood – Professor Malfoy would know when anyone entered his office, and the Jelly-Legs Jinx was merely a way to slow the intruders down. They quickly ran to Gryffindor Tower, both awed by and fearful of the Professor's methods.

They reached the Gryffindor Common Room safely, and after congratulating each other on a job well done, separated to their dormitories. Teddy and Rast were already packed and so slumped right into bed. The runespoor struggled for a moment or two, freeing itself from its position and coming to rest on Rast's chest. It softly hissed at him, and he answered the seeming question.

"_Don't worry. You'll be safe with me. We can be friends._"

Severus Snape watched this from an old, worn West Ham poster that stubbornly refused to be removed from the wall by even the most powerful magic. Smirking slightly, he stalked back to the Headmaster's office; there was planning to be done.


	13. Chapter 12: A Very Teddy Christmas

**A/N - It's been a while. Fear not. I still care. I've just been caught up in school. So don't expect regular updates or anything of that sort. Do expect to see the occasional update when I can manage, though. Like now. If you haven't read the chapter titled Scorpius Malfoy yet, this is your last note to do so.**

_Chapter Twelve: A Very Teddy Christmas_

Rast was quite pleased with things by the third day of the Christmas holiday. He, Teddy, and Valerie had maintained regular correspondence thus far, promising to have up-to-the-minute updates on all goings-on. As it turned out, Valerie's mother had convinced Mr. Wood that a vacation in America would be quite fun. While the family was staying in Salem, one of the few all-magical inhabitations in the Americas, Mrs. Wood frequently brought the family out into Muggle New England to experience Muggle culture more in depth than ever before. Teddy and Rast had both sent her their hopes for an interesting time, all the while hoping her father did not go mad at the Americans' insistence on Quodpot over Quidditch.

Teddy, for his part, had spent the first weekend at his godfather's place, and he was having quite a time of it. He told tales of James coming up with a swath of new pranks, some of which were incredibly sophisticated for a five year old boy, and Teddy was instructing him further in the art of prank. Little Albus, who was almost four years old, was starting to develop into a relatively shy boy. True, Teddy liked him well enough, but he was, according to Teddy, not as interested in pulling pranks on his family. And then there was baby Lily, almost two years old, who was quite the source of amusement to Teddy and James. Teddy also made note that his grandmother was in a much better mood than he had ever seen her in, and that he now hardly ever saw her without a smile on her face. She was a proud woman, and often had something of a haughty smirk if Teddy's stories were to be trusted, but the way he described it, she was smiling out of pure mirth.

Rast understood entirely – his aunt was smiling more warmly and broadly than he could ever remember before – and like Teddy, it was not her usual smirk. Truth be told, Rast thought his aunt had the best smirk he had ever seen, so completely expressive and yet so subtle that one might not notice it at first. Uncle Lucius was exhibiting a sort of nervousness that Rastaban had never seen in the man before, and he could tell that it was because of exactly what had caused his aunt's newfound smile. While this remained a mystery to the boy, he did notice that his aunt spent her lunches away from home now, leaving her husband to try his hand at cooking.

It was on this third day that Lucius Malfoy succeeded in cooking something – a box of some Muggle food involving noodles, cheese, and hamburger meat. He had tried and failed miserably at this task during the previous two days, instead choosing to make sandwiches. This hot lunch left something to be desired, though, and Rast asked his uncle to simply stick to sandwiches for all future lunches. The older man laughed momentarily at this suggestion before he took a bite. "I probably did this wrong again, didn't I?" he asked.

"Yeah. You didn't cook the noodles long enough. At least the meat's cooked through, this time," Rastaban commented, before prodding a noodle to ensure that it was one of the few that was soft enough for consumption. "So, can I ask you a question?"

Lucius sighed. He hoped that his nephew wouldn't ask about his parents. Snape had assured him the runespoor would keep his interest at bay for a sufficient length of time for the portrait to formulate a plan with which to slowly reveal everything. "If you must, Rastaban. What is it you need to ask?"

"What's up with Aunt Narcissa? She's smiling far too much to be normal for her. She seems really excited about something, and really happy about it, too. I'm sure you know what she's happy about, so can you tell me?"

Lucius exhaled, finding the question manageable. Trying not to show his relief at this, he spoke quickly. "She's been seeing a friend. It's been a very long time since they've seen each other or even spoken, and she's very, very happy to have the chance to do so again."

"Is it Teddy's grandmother?"

"Yes, Rastaban. Your aunt has gotten back in touch with Mrs. Tonks, and she couldn't be happier about it."

"That's good. It might mean I'd be able to visit Teddy sometimes, and he can visit here, too."

"I suppose so," Lucius said, and he let his mind rest once more. The boy was thoroughly distracted, after all.

* * *

Christmas day drew ever nearer, and both Teddy and Rastaban could feel the excitement in the air. Teddy wrote of his grandmother's secret plans for the holiday, saying that he was fairly certain that they would be visiting with friends that were not Harry and his family. Rast told Teddy that his family was in a similar state of frenzy – Aunt Narcissa was planning something big for Christmas dinner, and with the amount of food she was preparing, it seemed that they might have additional guests beyond Draco, Astoria, and Scorpius. Neither could wait until Christmas day to find out exactly what would happen.

Early Christmas morning, Scorpius ran into Rast's room and started jumping on the boy's bed, shouting excitedly that there were gifts downstairs. Wiping the sleep out of his eyes, Rastaban checked his clock to find that it was five in the morning. Realising that it would be at least four hours before the rest of the family was even willing to consider waking up, he grabbed the little boy by the hand and led him to the guest room he slept in. He had an idea, and it might just capture the child's interest long enough to keep him from waking everyone else prematurely.

Thanking his lucky stars that Scorpius had brought his replica Quidditch pitch and players, Rast set about prodding each player with his wand until they mounted their brooms. He set an old referee figure of his own on the ground nearby and told Scorpius to watch carefully. Draco had shown him how to enchant the players to play a game and to make the referee call fouls that the players would respond to, and the balls would not leave the confines of the pitch. The magic itself was very complex in its theory, but the spell was made simple enough for anyone with a wand to be able to make it happen.

With the lightest flick of his wand, Rastaban muttered "_Quidjuegus_," and the players rose on their brooms. The Quaffle began in Gwenog Jones' hands and the slight figure of Ginny Potter careened about the pitch, eagerly searching out the Golden Snitch that was no larger than Scorpius' front tooth. The little boy watched with interest as his toys came to life in a way that he had never seen before, and Rast couldn't help but smile a bit at the boy's wonder and excitement.

The game absorbed them both, and it was almost as if they were watching a real game. They both feared for Potter as she very nearly did not pull out of a dive in time – a feint by the Falmouth Seeker. The Harpies rallied back, though, closing the gap to thirty points and a choice elbow from Potter to her opposite number while the referee focused elsewhere. The game kept going, and eventually the two teams were tied. Both Seekers then shot out toward the centre of the pitch, right toward the referee, and with arms outstretched they collided. Once they had untangled themselves, though, Potter had the Snitch and had won the game for her team, much to the delight and approval of Scorpius.

The game had taken up nearly three and a half hours, and it subsequently came as no surprise that Draco stood in the doorway as the Snitch was caught and declared quietly "She was like that when I played against her at school. Very reckless, I mean," he said, gesturing down at the figure of Ginny Potter that now zoomed around the pitch for a victory lap.

"You played against Ginny Potter? I knew you played against her husband when you were in school, but are you serious? You played against _the_ Ginny Potter? The woman who helped the Harpies to victory for five years straight before retiring to write the best articles in the entirety of _The Daily Prophet_?"

"Yes, yes, yes, and yes, Rast," the man said, smiling. "I never admitted it publicly back then, but she was very talented as both a Chaser and a Seeker."

"You were a pretty good Seeker, too, you know," Rast commented. He'd played his cousin in some pick-up games before going to Hogwarts, and he'd seen Draco play against others his own age a few times, too.

"Yeah, I know. Not my fault that when it really counted I ended up against Seekers that were so much better than me. With them to compare me to, after all, I could easily be ignored. I suppose I needed that, though," Draco replied, wisely passing on the message to the boys that humility was a virtue and that it was best to get out of the mindset that they were the most important people in the world. Rast already understood this, but little Scorpius was young yet, and the lesson would be beneficial.

"So, Draco, come on. Tell me what's going on. Aunt Narcissa's been cooking up a storm this past week, and it can't be for the six of us. Who else is coming?"

Scorpius watched them, smiling. He wasn't talking, but his eyes showed how much he was interested at this point. He clearly didn't know who would be showing up, but screwing up his face in 

thought, it seemed he came to a decision about what to say. "I want Teddy. Teddy to come for Chris'mas!"

"I'd wish for that, too, Scorp. I don't think it'll happen, though," Rast said, patting the child on his shoulder. Draco had a knowing smile, but Rast didn't notice, and he didn't even realise that his question went unanswered.

* * *

It was a family affair to set the table for dinner, and it didn't take Rast long to figure out how many extra people there would be. As he set the plates down and found Scorpius hiding under the table with some biscuits, he counted a total of eight plates, eight crystal goblets, and eight silver forks, knives, and spoons. Rast and Scorpius both looked up when the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of the guests.

Rast scooped up his cousin and carried him toward the front door. He wasn't even out of the dining room, though, when he heard his aunt's excited cry. "Andi! Oh, Merlin, I'm so glad you could make it! And Theodore, your hair... it's so festive."

They caught sight of Teddy, wearing his hair red with green stripes, and it was all Rast could do to hold onto the struggling child who now tried to get down. "It's Teddy! Look, it's Teddy!" he shouted, breaking free and darting through his father's legs to hug Teddy around the legs.

The three made their way to the table, looking back over their shoulders at the three women who were now talking like young girls while the men busied themselves with moving food from the kitchen to the table.

"So, do you like my hair? I thought it'd be nice for Christmas and all," Teddy asked as he and Rast settled Scorpius into his seat.

"It's uniquely you, Ted. I should have expected as much, and I would have if I had known you were coming. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Gran didn't let me know until we were ready to leave. I was so surprised I'm shocked I didn't throw off her Apparition."

"Christmas wouldn't be the same if you went and splinched your grandmother, mate." Rast joked while Scorpius patted his friend's hair.

"Oh, Rast. Brought you your gift. I thought you might like this," Teddy said, pulling a small, thin package from his pocket. "It's a Shield Cloak. I was thinking you could wear it during Quidditch games next year, assuming we make it onto the team. That way it's just that bit harder for a Bludger to get near you. It's not cheating, mind, just a creative clothing option that slightly alters the outcome of the game," he explained with a grin and a wink.

"I take it no one's come up with this plan before, and that's why it's not cheating, eh?"

"Right in one, Rast."

"Thanks, mate. Here's your gift," he said, pulling a similar package from the nearby china cabinet. "I thought you might like a Headless Hat, yourself."

"Those were discontinued six years ago!"

"I know. Draco dug his up out of storage. You wouldn't believe it, but he was almost a regular customer in the early years of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Said he was shocked at how much Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder he still had."

In the next room over, Draco and Lucius were moving food from the kitchen to the table. At one moment, before they brought out a trio of baked hams, Lucius pulled Draco off to the side and looked him up and down. "Remember to call her Mrs. Tonks. We don't want Rast knowing yet. She knows that, and your mother is explaining to Astoria," he breathed, making sure he couldn't be heard outside of the immediate area.

"Don't worry about it. I never really met her before, so it's not like I'm used to calling her 'Aunt Andromeda'. What about Scorpius, though?" Draco asked, laughing a little at his father's concern.

"She'll decide that over dinner. Now, we just have these hams and then the potatoes left before everyone can sit down."

Dinner was served, and slowly the many great slices of ham, scalloped, mashed, and baked potatoes, black pudding, and a whole host of other foods made their way around the table. Teddy and Rast sat together; Scorpius sat between his parents, with Draco sitting at the end of the table. Lucius sat at the head of the table, with Narcissa and Andromeda at either side of him. The two women continued their animated discussion, something into which they allowed Astoria despite the fact that she didn't quite fit into the group, being so many years younger than the other two women.

While Rast and Teddy covertly catapulted peas at each other every now and then, with Draco keeping watch so that they would not get caught, Scorpius seemed to be making a volcano out of his potatoes. The little boy looked up to his grandmother and said "Grandma, look! Volcano!"

Lucius, Astoria, Andromeda, and Narcissa all turned to look at the puddle of pumpkin juice and mashed potatoes on Scorpius' plate. The two older women laughed while Astoria took it upon herself to clean up the mess and set a new plate for the boy. Lucius simply smirked a little. The boy, though, seemed to notice Andromeda for the first time. "Who are you?" he asked, suddenly trying to have a more mature look to him. It was his patented 'big boy' face, and he used it with new people.

"My name's Andromeda. But you can just call me Aunt Andi, if Andromeda is too hard for you."

"Oh. Okay, then, Andr'm'da. You like the volcano?" the boy asked, seeming to accept 'Aunt Andi' quite readily, even if he couldn't quite say her name.

"It was a very good volcano, Scorpius," she replied, a smile on her face. She was reminded very much of Sirius when he was just a small boy.

There was a clinking of metal against glass, and Lucius stood up when everyone had focused their attention on him. "I would like to propose a toast, to reunions, reconciliations, family, and friendship. It is my hope that the bonds between us all be everlasting, and the experiences we share be the bedrock of our futures."

Everyone raised their goblet, with the exception of Scorpius, and then drank deeply. Rast and Teddy only had pumpkin juice, like Scorpius, but the adults were drinking wine – with the exception of Lucius. He was having his favourite, scotch. There was a surprise, though. Draco stood and tapped his fork against his goblet.

"I have an announcement to make. I've just been signed to a contract with a professional Quidditch team. I'll be playing Seeker for the Chudley Cannons starting with their next game, about three weeks from tonight."

"That's brilliant, Draco!" Rast said, as his aunt and uncle nodded approvingly at their son. It would indeed be a wonder if he could help the Cannons win their first game in decades.

"Uncle Ron will be ecstatic if this takes them out of the bottom of the league!" Teddy cried out. Astoria was leaning over Scorpius to bestow a short kiss upon her husband, being, Rast recalled, the originator of this notion.

"You'll be playing the Wasps, if I'm remembering the match schedule for the season correctly," Rast noted. "They haven't been the same since they lost Bagman all those years back. Next to bottom in the league, so beating them might bring a boost of confidence to the others on the team."

"I'll try to do that, you two," Draco said before he began again at his food. The rest of the dinner passed in silence and relative inactivity. Narcissa, Astoria, and Andromeda resumed their conversation while Draco kept tabs on the boys. To Rast, and possibly in part due to the addition of Teddy and his grandmother, it seemed like a gathering of a happy, loving family.


	14. Chapter 13: The Potion Master's Plan

_Chapter 13: The Potion Master's Plan_

Life as a portrait was a dull and unfulfilling experience in the opinion of Severus Snape. He hated his surroundings – the Headmaster's Office was much as it had been when Dumbledore was alive, full of curious instruments emitting small puffs of smoke and clicking and whizzing noises. And with Dumbledore next door, the constant reminder of his life, of his failure, was complete.

"What are you brooding about now, Severus?" the portrait asked, his blue eyes twinkling over half-moon spectacles as he turned toward the younger man's portrait.

"Nothing that concerns you, sir. But I am quite sure that you will find a way to insert yourself anyway, so I might as well ask you this question," Snape replied, bitterly recalling his last year of life. "Did Potter ever tell you how he defeated the Dark Lord?"

"Oh, my. He did indeed, Severus. Tom died by his own curse, because Harry was the master of the Elder Wand," Albus said, his beard twitching slightly as he smiled. "A great irony, of course."

"Then it was true. The legend, his possession of the wand, his reason for killing me..." Snape trailed off, blinking rapidly. "But how did Potter master the wand? I killed you; the mastery should have passed to me, should it not?"

"No, Severus. Draco defeated me before you killed me. He became the master of a wand he never touched. That you died because Tom did not know this, and then presumed you to be the master, is a shame," Dumbledore began. "Harry bested Draco and mastered the wand. But yes, the legend of the Deathly Hallows did, in fact turn out to be true."

"I guess I thought Minerva to be joking when she said he used the wand to create my portrait. Then, the Cloak and the Stone, they're real too?" Snape asked, incredulous. Dumbledore had to be putting him on. The only ones who spoke seriously of the Deathly Hallows were insane, or taking the mickey out of their younger relations and colleagues.

"Severus, I have the distinct honour of being the only Quester to ever handle all three Hallows. You even had the honour of seeing all three. My wand, Harry's cloak, and that ring that I'd cracked in my office a year before I died were the Deathly Hallows," Dumbledore said, taking the time to explain to Snape in as much detail as was required to get the point across effectively.

"Potter's cloak? The Cloak of Invisibility belonged to... to James Potter? It belonged to his son?"

"It did, and it does."

"And the Stone, the Stone was in that ring? If it was your goal to unite the Hallows and you had the Stone, why did you try to destroy it?" Snape was drowning in confusion. Dumbledore was making no sense whatsoever.

"That is a wholly different matter, Severus. The Stone was still functional after that, though," he smiled again. "I bequeathed it to Harry in my will, and he used it before he went to confront Tom. I'm afraid he had seen you die already, by the time that happened."

"You gave it to him? In your will? The Dark Lord had the Ministry, and I was able to find out what was in your will," Snape didn't really know what to think now. "It wasn't entirely necessary, as I found out about the Snitch and the sword from the Weasley girl when she tried to carry the sword off. There was no mention of a ring or a cracked stone in your will," he concluded, somewhat lamely.

"Ah, but you have mentioned it. I hid the Stone in the Snitch."

"And what happened to the Stone?"

"It is lost, in the forest," Dumbledore simply said. "Why such curiosity over the Stone, Severus? You know that you cannot use it, and you know the Tale of the Three Brothers, so you know how foolish it would be to summon Lily if you could use it."

"I know that, Headmaster."

"Severus, I have told you many times over the years that on this wall, we are all equals. Call me Albus, and please answer my question."

"I ask on behalf of the Black child."

"There are no Black children, Severus. Sirius was the last," Dumbledore responded, though his face now reflected deep thought. "I've heard that Bellatrix and Nymphadora are dead. Unless you speak of Draco's son, I do not understand your meaning."

"Bellatrix and Nymphadora had children as well, Albus."

"Nymphadora?"

"She and Lupin had a child about a month or so before they died."

"And of Bellatrix? Surely you jest. She married Rodolphus out of perceived duty, not of love or desire for children."

"No, I do not. She gave birth to the Dark Lord's child less than a week before he killed Grindelwald. He's been raised by the Malfoys."

"Tom had a son?" Dumbledore whispered the question, his eyes wide.

"It seems that you are not as omniscient as it was once believed, Albus," Snape observed. "He is a curious child. He is nothing at all like his parents. Where they were bloodthirsty and cruel, he is compassionate and kind. He has friends, a family that cares about him and his happiness. He seems drawn to snakes, and Lucius tells me that Narcissa actually went as far as to purchase two wands for the boy, and hid the one that chose him, telling him that the wandmaker was mistaken. She told him that the wand was actually made from honeysuckle."

"Why ever would she do that?" Albus asked. It was his belief that one should never be tricked into accepting a wand that did not choose the wizard.

"The wand was elder and presumably phoenix feather. No one has ever weighed the wand, though, so it can't be said for sure. If it has been weighed, it was a long time ago. She didn't want him getting any ideas from that, so the wand he currently uses, which he seems to have mastered by sheer will, whether he knows it or not, is a falsification. He doesn't even know. She transfigured the second wand to appear as the one that chose him," Snape told him. The superstitions about elder wands could not have helped matters, and neither could the connection of the real thing to the boy's father.

"'Wand of elder, never prosper'. How curious it is that people still follow such silly superstitions. And this ties into your questions about the Stone how?"

"He doesn't know who his parents were, and I promised Lucius that I would lead him to the answer over a gradual period of time. I hope to have done so by the end of his third year, if I can lead him in some way to the Stone. I think he and Lupin would both stand to benefit from finding out."

"You have grown sentimental in your death, Severus," the older man laughed. "I can't do much to help, of course, but I can provide you any information you might need regarding the Stone. What will be your first step, though?"

"I plan to let him bond with his pet runespoor for as long as it takes for him to come back to the question of his heritage. At that point, I will talk to Lucius about switching the wands, giving him the one that chose him, and possibly giving him lessons in the lore of the Deathly Hallows. Giving him his real wand, I think would serve him better than continuing this sham," Snape explained. A mastered wand would work almost identically when compared to the wand that chose the wizard, but the original wand would still be better – unless of course it was the Elder Wand. "Perhaps you could assist there, as you would know the story better than any other," he suggested.

"I could, I could," Dumbledore mused. "You're sure of this? I told Harry that it was for the best that none knew exactly where the Stone fell."

"This is possibly the best way, Albus," Snape urged. "It would be best if the boy found out about his parents from his parents, not his aunt or uncle. They would try to break it lightly to him, and that is simply impossible in this situation."

"Alas, another conversation that could have applied to Harry. I failed in that regard, of providing a good home for the boy, one that would allow him to understand himself and his family," the old former Headmaster sighed. If anything could make him rethink his position, it was bringing up a failure he had made in a similar situation. "If it must be done, then I suppose."

"Thank you, Albus. I shall be in the Gryffindor Common Room until such a time as the boy finds renewed interest in his parents. If Lucius comes here to look for me, please tell him to wait and then come fetch me," Severus said. It was less of a request than a command. "I will then return to explain things to him."

* * *

Lucius Malfoy stood in his bedroom, alone, looking down at a small bedside cabinet. With a slight movement of his wand, the man opened a concealed drawer. There was a long, thin box inside, and it seemed as if there was a faint blue glow to it. That could not be, however, as boxes did not glow under ordinary circumstances.

He opened the box, pulling a long shaft of wood from it. He held the wand to the light, seeing its pristine condition. It was clearly very old, but it looked as if it had been newly crafted. Ollivander had said that this particular wand was older than Hogwarts itself, and that he wondered indeed why it had taken so long to choose its wizard. The wand was absolutely flawless in appearance, with age lines showing distinctly in the elder, adding to the wand's beauty. It had a glossy sheen to it, and the wand visibly emanated power. Perhaps it had been used in the past; perhaps not.

He pocketed the wand. It would eventually be necessary to return the wand to its true owner, and it would be best to have it on hand. They had lied to their nephew, convinced him that the wand he had been using was the one that had selected him at the shop. It was the worst thing that they had ever done to the boy, and he knew that eventually he would have to explain himself. It was considered a violation to hold another's wand hostage. He only hoped that, when he did explain, Rastaban would understand.


	15. Chapter 14: Every Tom, Salazar and Harry

_Chapter 14: Every Tom, Salazar and Harry_

It was a week into second term, and while Rastaban, Teddy, and Valerie were still catching up with each other about their holidays, they could not spend all of their time chatting about such pleasantries. There were classes to attend to, after all, and it was Teddy's wise opinion that kept them from squandering away all of their time discussing Valerie's trip to the United States.

They did, when possible, discuss the trip. After all, there was so much fascinating history in Salem, and Valerie was fit to burst with all of her stories about eccentric Muggles who believed themselves witches and warlocks. Some of these stories were quite amusing, while others were more than a bit sad and pathetic.

The weather had been clearing up recently, with less snowfall, allowing the first years to use their free Friday afternoons pursuing such distractions as snowball fights and carolling – much to the displeasure of their aged Squib of a caretaker Argus Filch. The older students had said that the man's cat had died just the previous year, and that he personally blamed the students for it. Of course, it was rubbish, as the cat had been more than twenty years old, but the old, wheezy man with an irrational hatred for magical children always welcomed a new excuse to threaten the young ones with shackles and chains.

It was, of course, a fatally stupid mistake for Rastaban, then, to tell Teddy and Valerie what he had named his pet runespoor as they passed Filch's office on the way to their Potions class with Professor Zabini.

"I'm calling them Salazar now. It just seems to fit them, I think," he was saying, after explaining how runespoors had a distinct personality in each head that comprised a single, unique individual. "Of course, Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loon, but it still stands to reason that boy bearing his name should name his pet serpent after the man."

Filch had come out of his office then, blathering something or other about the Chamber of Secrets, a petrified cat, and Rastaban being the cause of everything. Before any of the three students could say a word in defence, Filch had seized him by the arm and was forcibly dragging Rast into his office.

He nearly threw the lad into a chair before rifling through his desk, searching for a detention form, muttering under his breath as he went. "Conspiracy to murder Squibs, Muggles, Muggleborns... Opening the Chamber of Secrets... Petrifying Mrs. Norris... killing school chickens... Possession of banned objects..."

Rast sat there and waited. After a bit he just hoped that Valerie and Teddy had gone on without him, because Filch was still prattling on, always finding a new thing to add to his inane list of offences that had nothing to do with Rast in the slightest. He didn't know why he was in here, but he did know that the older students were right. Filch had gone completely nutters when his cat died.

After what seemed like hours, Filch finished, holding a three inch thick stack of parchments on which he had seemingly listed every possible way of breaking a school rule and then some, and brandished them in the boy's face.

"Bet you'll appreciate what you have now, boy, because this looks like enough to have you executed by any reasonable jury," the old man rambled.

"You're going to have to file that with my Head of House, though, won't you? And write my name on it, too," Rast piped up, noticing that his name was nowhere to be seen and that he might be able to get Filch sacked for excessive punishment in the process.

"Well put your name on it, you little brat," Filch snarled, handing a quill over.

Rast signed his name, and waited. Professor Longbottom would look at the charges and laugh. He was sure of that. There was no way a first year could even do some of the things listed, like opening the Chamber of Secrets – whatever that was – and exploding a Vanishing Cabinet.

"Slytherin, then. Looks like we're taking a trip to Professor Snape," The old man grunted before starting toward the dungeons, dragging Rastaban along with him.

"Who? And I'm a Gryffindor. My Head of House is Professor Longbottom," Rast protested, trying to wring his arm from the tight grasp of the caretaker.

"Right, right. Snape's been dead for years. Gryffindor? Shouldn't have lied about your surname, you little nitwit. No one's named Slytherin anymore..." he rambled, losing his train of thought after only a few more moments. They wound their way up the numerous staircases, finally emerging at an office on the fifth floor.

The office was richly decorated, with several crimson and gold banners, including an old and tattered Gryffindor lion that still moved and roared. There were so many plants in the office, and the air was so thick, that it felt like one of the Herbology greenhouses. Professor Longbottom was over near the back of the office, carefully watering something that looked like a stunted and blistered cactus.

"Professor Longbottom, I found this ruffian and... Well, just look at what this little whelp has done!" the caretaker nearly shouted, thrusting the parchments into the teacher's hands.

Professor Longbottom looked faintly worried as he took the parchments in his hand, but as his eyes scanned across the first row of offences, Rastaban saw a slight smirk form.

"I'll take care of this, Mister Filch. You may go now. Leave the child to me," he said, schooling himself into something of a serious expression and tone of voice. Filch complied, leaving Rastaban and Professor Longbottom staring at each other.

"Did he seriously just write you up for all this rot?" the professor asked, flipping through the sheaves of parchment. "Leading a House Elf revolt against the authority of the Bloody Baron over Peeves? Sneaking an illegal dragon to smugglers from Rome? Merlin's beard, most of these don't even make sense. And it's Romania, not Rome..."

"I – wait, what?" Rast asked, startled.

"Oh, nothing. Just memories relating to my first year. Some students in my year snuck a dragon up to the Astronomy Tower to get it off to Romania. They got detention. I did, too, for being up and about trying to warn them that I'd heard another student telling Filch to be there to intercept them. In the end, we all had to go into the forest," Professor Longbottom explained, gazing somewhat wistfully at a dragon lily a few feet to his left.

"Sir, I think Filch has lost it. If he's charging me with old and nonsensical offences, maybe it's time he gets sacked. This really doesn't need to happen again to anyone else," Rast said, hoping he could do this and then go find Teddy and Valerie. A quick look at the clock told him that he had been detained for over an hour.

"I'll bring it up to the Headmaster the next time I talk with him. You should get going to your Defence class; I'll let Professor Zabini know why you were absent for Potions," Professor Longbottom assured the boy, opening the door out of his office.

"Thanks, Professor."

Rastaban then ran down the corridor. He wasn't paying too much attention to his surroundings as he bounded up the stairs to the Defence classroom. This lack of attentiveness caused him to crash into Teddy, who was in the middle of the hall talking to man with jet black hair that stuck up in several directions, a man who looked vaguely familiar to Rast. He just couldn't place it until he looked at the man's face and saw the scar on his forehead.

"Sorry, Teddy," he apologised, picking himself up off the floor. The man he knew to be Harry Potter looked down at them both with a bit of concern before he locked eyes with Rast. His lips moved almost imperceptibly, but it was enough for Rast to notice.

"Tom," Harry had mouthed, complete shock evident in his eyes.

"Harry Potter? Why – what... You're at Hogwarts?" Rast asked; his mind not able to settle on the right question. He didn't even think to question what Harry nearly said, and why it had seemed to be 'Tom'.

Harry Potter blinked a few times, looking from this boy to his godson and back. It was uncanny, the resemblance this boy had to Tom Riddle, and he could hardly believe that the miniature Tom was apparently friends with Teddy.

"I'm here for my annual Defence lecture to O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. students. I was just catching up with my godson here, before I sit and observe your class," the man explained, watching Rast's eyes grow wide.

"Godson... Teddy, you never told me that Harry was Harry Potter! Then, that means Ron is Ron Weasley... Why didn't you tell me this?" he asked his friend.

"It's like you said at the Sorting about your surname. I didn't think it was important, and it's not. Being Harry's godson doesn't make me any different," Teddy replied. "Right, Harry?"

"Very," Harry Potter said. Rast could hardly believe he was in the presence of the saviour of the wizarding world. Then he remembered that Harry probably got this all the time from people and that it must be annoying. So he tried to keep the staring and excitement to a minimum. You didn't make a good first impression on Harry Potter by acting like a mindless fanboy.

"Sorry, Mr. Potter," Rast apologised. "I was just trying to find Teddy so I could tell him that I might have got Filch sacked. He accused me of all sorts of rot – exploding a Vanishing Cabinet, smuggling an illegal dragon to people from Rome, opening the Chamber of Secrets, and the like."

Harry Potter smirked a little at this, and Teddy was very excited by the notion that Filch might get fired. They didn't see much of him, but they knew enough from this experience and from the older students that they did not want to. "Valerie's inside. Let's get in before your uncle takes points for tardiness."

They filed inside and found their seats. Harry strode to the front of the classroom, greeted Professor Malfoy genially, and then conjured a chair near the Professor's desk, into which he sank, watching.

"As you can no doubt tell, the hero of Gryffindor House has shown up to observe you lot before he gives a big speech to the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. students," Professor Malfoy said, softening his usual sneer in a manner that meant he was joking. "It would thus behove you all to show proper respect to me, and to pay attention to my lessons!"

He brought his wand down sharply on McLaggen's desk, startling the boy out of his sleep. "As you all know, my methods are to teach practically, historically, and through observation. Today's lesson shall concern wandlore and its significance in the Dark Arts.

"Tell me, has anyone in this classroom heard of Loxias?" There was silence. "Has anyone heard of Arcus and Livius, or of Hereward, or of Barnabas Deverill?" He surveyed the students. None nodded, and half of them blinked lamely. "I wouldn't expect it. Their stories, while old, are far ahead of what you would study in History of Magic. I will not be going into detail here, except to explain that, for so long as wizards have been using wands, there have been wizards trying to get a wand that is better than the next."

The students that had grown up in wizarding families perked their ears. They knew that the _Tale of the Three Brothers_ had given rise, long ago, to rumours of an unbeatable wand. The children of Muggles listened intently, as they were about to dive into the lore of their new world headfirst.

"Correct me if I am mistaken, Mr. Potter, but the lore of this Elder Wand that Death supposedly crafted for the oldest brother in the story, is true, is it not? What cannot be verified, of course, is where the wand is now, or who its master presently is," Lucius explained, letting Harry have the time to object or deny any of his statements. No denouncement came, though, and Professor Malfoy proceeded to explain the relevance of the names he had mentioned and how they tied into the story of the wand from the old færie tale.

"Now, if a borrowed wand is less useful than the wand that chooses the wizard or is mastered in battle, then we should be able to demonstrate this, and see why some Dark Wizards collect the wands of their fallen foes. This would make it more difficult, of course, for the foe to take up a new wand against the Dark Wizard, because it would not work as well. If anyone would like to lend me a wand to demonstrate with..." he left the question hanging.

No one moved, but Teddy leaned in toward Rast and said "You should do it, mate."

Rast raised his hand, holding his wand, and Lucius was taken aback. He could switch the wands now and he wouldn't even have to tell the boy. There wouldn't be another opportunity like this for some time.

"Mr. Slytherin, please present your wand, then. Tell us what it is made of, for the record," Lucius commanded, as Rast walked up and handed his wand to his uncle, and Harry Potter watched with interest, clearly uncertain of what Lucius was going to do for a demonstration.

"It's honeysuckle and phoenix feather, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Mr. Ollivander said it was well suited to defensive and healing magic," Rast said. He didn't want to say that Ollivander had made a mistake and said the wand was made of elder, as that could be potentially embarrassing.

"Mr. Potter, would you care to take a look at the wand, and possibly verify this information?" Lucius asked politely. Harry took the wand into his own hands and examined it carefully.

"Looks like elder to me," he said pleasantly though his eyes said that he still did not quite know what to make of the young man whose wand he had just held, returning the wand to Lucius. "And it feels like phoenix feather – warm to the touch. Ollivander wasn't mistaken. He never is when it comes to his wands, so I don't know where honeysuckle came from. Unless he didn't make it."

Rast watched as his uncle placed the wand into his robe pocket, and, a moment later, produced two identical wands. "One of these is your wand. One of them is an imitation. You all know the Stinging Hex, so I will ask Rastaban here to cast a Stinging Hex at me with each wand in turn. He and I should both be able to feel which wand is truly his by the quality of the hex."

Rast took up one of the wands, aimed it at his uncle, and slowly enunciated the incantation for the Stinging Hex. He wanted to feel the magic course through him, to get a better idea from each wand. There was a build-up of energy that released, striking Professor Malfoy in the left knee. The man shook his leg three times before gesturing for Rast to take up the other wand and do the same.

This wand felt different. It was lighter, and it seemed to meld with his consciousness, warming his hand as he did magic with it. He didn't even finish the incantation before the spell released, and he felt a great surge of power coursing through his body. Professor Malfoy was knocked back several feet, and he could not ease the stinging by the end of the class. Rast had never cast a Stinging Hex so well before, and it seemed to him that his wand had reacted to the threat of being mistaken. He pocketed his wand, and handed his uncle the fake before leaving the classroom with Teddy and Valerie.

~*~

That night Rastaban closed the curtains around his four poster bed and slid his wand under his pillow. As he settled himself to sleep, he decided that if his uncle could so easily create a fake that could be confused for his wand by sight, he would have to sleep with the wand at the ready – in case any older student got an idea in his head. He leaned out to blow out the lamp on his bedside table, but paused. There was a silhouette near the end of his bed. It was tall and had long hair, and seemed like it might be a woman. Rast swiped his hand toward his wand, hastily grabbing it, and waved it, opening the curtains there, and throwing a Stinging Hex along with it, to be sure. There was nothing, no hint of the mysterious woman he could have sworn was there, and Teddy yelped from across the room where the hex had flown. Rast apologised, saying he thought he had seen something, before closing his curtains again. Placing his wand back under his pillow, he blew out the lamp and settled down to try and get some sleep, though he was sure his dreams would be haunted by this strange apparition.


	16. Chapter 15: The Portrait Revealed

_Chapter 15: The Portrait Revealed_

It was early February now, and the whole school was still murmuring about the visit by Harry Potter and the sacking of Filch. It really was difficult to tell what was more interesting to the student body as a whole, but among the staff, it was almost obvious – Filch had been a nuisance for far too long. The only question now was what the school would do for a new caretaker.

Of course, the visitation of Harry Potter was also of keen interest among those students who were not able to hear his lecture. Many sixth year students, not as pressed to study as their fifth and seventh year fellows, were kind enough to share the contents of the lecture, including a joint telling by a pair of prefects from Slytherin and Ravenclaw. They were the most precise in recalling Potter's theories on the Patronus Charm and the Unforgivable Curses.

This held many of the younger set in rapt attention, but Rastaban, Teddy, and Valerie had other things on their minds after about a week of this. It was partially because Teddy was trying to compose a note to Harry's younger son Albus, who would be turning four on the fourth and partially due to Rast's excitement over Salazar's behaviour that they started to refocus. With Valerie to keep their noses in their work once they said they would get to it, they had little choice but to go along with their word. Where Oliver Wood was a known Quidditch fanatic, his daughter was equally enraptured by completing assignments, and sometimes it scared the boys just how much joy she got out of doing work early. It didn't help that she made them do so, as well. "Mum always said there was time for Quidditch and fun after I finished my work. So that's the way we're going to do it," she would often tell them.

After successfully completing a rather nasty essay for Professor Zabini on venoms in non-poisonous potions, the boys flew upstairs to resume their usual activities. Teddy was nearly done with his note for Albus, and Rastaban was trying to see if he could convince Salazar that exploring the castle for him would be a most interesting experience for the young runespoor.

"_I'm sure there are plenty of places you could explore, and plenty of mice and other things you could eat. All I want is for you to go out and look around a little and tell me if you find anything interesting_," he hissed. The snake focused its three heads in his direction and let out a hiss that was uncharacteristic of it.

"_If you want this castle explored, speak to that portrait of yours you seem so fond of. He's always walking around the walls downstairs. We're moulting, so there's no reason to go out_," it hissed in three simultaneous voices. That was the runespoor's most powerful way to get a point across to the listener. If it spoke in unison, it would not change its mind.

"_Fine then_," Rastaban replied, and he turned around to see Valerie and Teddy watching him.

"You were talking to it," Valerie practically accused him.

"I suppose I was. Guess that makes me a Parselmouth, doesn't it?" Rast paused thoughtfully. "I thought it was weird that I understood him."

"I'd say it does. You don't get much more Parselmouth-like than having the ability," Teddy observed. "Oh well. It's neat, anyway. And you could say you found your unique talent."

"Like your hair?" Rast asked, looking to his friend's head and finding a mop of orange and black hair – the colours of the Chudley Cannons, who had won their first game in decades mere weeks earlier, thanks in part to a brilliant performance by their new Seeker, one Draco Malfoy.

"Yes, just like my hair," Teddy grinned. "But I've still got other talents. Soon I'll be working with my eyes." Valerie ignored the boys and their obsessive need to compete over the stupidest things. She'd noticed that in watching small children when she went out – the boys were always competing for some reason or another. Girls were so much more easygoing, and she just didn't understand the need to compete all the time. Her father had tried to explain it once when she was a little girl, but he got too wrapped up in the fact that Puddlemere was in the finals of the European Cup to remember why he was talking to her and consequently ended the lecture by saying "So I'm going to go out there and win, or die trying!"

It really was not one of her fondest memories of her father.

When they got down to the Gryffindor common room, they found it to be much as usual. The various paintings and posters that adorned the walls were still there – not that they would be removed, but their occupants were still in their frames; the fire crackled merrily in front of cushy red armchairs; the mysterious portrait was still watching them...

Rastaban walked confidently toward the portrait. "Excuse me. I was wondering if you might like to explore the castle for me and tell me about what it is you find. I would have had Salazar do it, but he didn't want to. He's my pet runespoor, you know, but he's moulting and suggested I ask you," he added in a conspiratorial whisper.

"I am not someone that you send on errands," the portrait replied indignantly. "No wonder Phineas hates the students, if they just treat us like means to find people and things. We _do_ have feelings and the like, you know."

"Well, if you're not someone who I can ask to explore for me, then who are you?" the boy asked hotly, as Teddy watched with mild interest and Valerie merely averted her gaze. That the boy would need to learn tact was obvious, and it was just as obvious to anyone who passed by just who it would be that taught it to him. She sighed loudly, but it was to no avail. Rast was not paying attention at all.

"I am Professor Severus Snape, former Headmaster at this institution. You are a student. Now let us get on with this," the portrait stated, his icy gaze locked on the little boy with black hair who stood looking defiantly at the menacing-looking portrait. "What is your driving curiosity at the moment?"

"My driving curiosity?" he floundered, looking to his friends for support. Valerie offered none, but Teddy had something.

"What do you most want to learn about?" It really didn't help anything.

"Erm, I dunno," he said sheepishly and without much conviction, digging into his robe pocket with his hand to find his wand. Gripping the familiar piece of wood gave him some peace of mind in situations where his thoughts were muddled and uncertain, and this time was no different. And then something intruded into that peace, drowning out all of his other thoughts.

_Thy greatest curiosity doth lie in thy heart._

That thought came to him, unbidden and unwanted, but nonetheless it came. It had some quality to it that Rast could not place, not that he could try. The thought seemed so natural now that thinking too much about it only made him forget what the thought was. And with that thought Rastaban brightly said "I guess I'm curious about blood. Why's it red, Professor?"

Snape could see that the boy was slowly getting there, regaining his curiosity, even if he asked such a dunderheaded question. His left eye, though, seemed to twitch in irritation, as if he wanted to reach out and smack some sense into the boy. He answered, although he seemed disinterested and more than a little angry about the fact that he had to answer this question. "There's iron in it, and your blood carries oxygen. Oxygen rusts iron, and rust is red. That is your great mystery solved. Bother someone else the next time you feel the need to ask such a simple and worthless question."

With that the sallow-faced, hook-nosed man in the portrait swept out of the frame and walked purposefully toward the portrait hole where the Fat Lady had just opened to let in a pair of sixth years.

~*~

"He's slowly coming back to it, Lucius. I think he'll probably be ready for his journey of self-discovery to begin by the end of term," Snape alerted his friend. "Then I'll be able to lead him around, get him reading and exploring possibilities."

"You've made this much easier. If he figures it out gradually, he might just be kinder to me for keeping who his parents are from him," Lucius replied, reclining in his chair as he flipped the page in the book he was reading. "Awfully close to going like Belmakor and Belsambar there..."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing, just reading. This is very interesting and fascinating literature. Probably the closest any Muggle's ever come to describing magic properly. Do you suppose David Eddings might be descended from a Squib?"

"I really don't care, Lucius. Tell me. When do you plan to give the boy back his wand? He should have it, unless you want him to fall behind in class, that is. I will not tutor him."

"I gave it back to him when Harry came to observe the first years. He doesn't even know that the one he had was a forgery. So it all worked out on that count." He turned another page. "You really should have read these books, Severus. They're absolutely fantastic. I should give the Muggles credit – they know compelling storytelling better than anything else."

"I can't read books, Lucius. I'm a portrait. I lack limbs," Snape observed, somewhat snidely, though he had a slight smirk. He then turned the conversation toward the information that was pertinent. "Good. He should have had his wand from the beginning, though, but this won't slow his progress in his studies any, so I can let it lie. As soon as he is interested, I will begin teaching him about the last century or so. It would be good for him to know some of the background to his recent family history."

"Whatever you think is best, Severus. I trust you," Lucius replied.

"You're just like Dumbledore, always trusting me. It's irritating." Snape remarked sarcastically, and with a hint of a smirk, as he swept out of the portrait to return to Gryffindor Tower.


	17. Chapter 16: The Woman of His Dreams

**A/N:** I know, it's been ages. I'm putting these three chapters up today because they were the last I had finished before my hiatus began. I am not sure how much progress I will make on this story in the future. You will almost certainly have some questions, so I do invite you to ask. I will answer to the best of my ability without giving away more than is necessary. Thank you.

_Chapter 16: The Woman of His Dreams_

"Why did I ask why blood is red?" Rastaban asked as he, Valerie, and Teddy lounged in the common room that night, with only studious fifth and seventh years for company. Rast was twirling his wand absently, watching as the older students studied. They weren't paying attention to the three first years that no one really paid attention to anyway. As far as the older students were concerned, Valerie was just the daughter of a Quidditch fanatic, Teddy was that weird kid who could change his hair all the time, and Rast was the misfit Slytherin who happened to be in Gryffindor. They almost accepted him, even, after they'd seen he wasn't planning to kill anyone. And after they'd given him a few beatings to let him know what would happen if he did anything funny.

"Did you have a different question in mind?" Teddy asked, switching his hair from a sandy blond to a deep maroon. "I think I've got this under control now. Let me know if my eyes change."

"I didn't really have any question in mind at all. I just sort of realised that what I was most curious about was my blood," Rast replied, watching Teddy's eyes. They were both a bright blue at the moment. "No clue why I thought that, and the question just popped out. You've got one."

Valerie nodded. "Left one's gone green; right's still blue. How'd the question come to you, Rast?"

"I don't really know," he answered, watching Teddy try to match his eyes. "I sort of felt it, though. It was almost like I had two minds at once for a second. It was weird."

"That sounds pretty weird," Teddy commented, his face screwed up in concentration. "This used to just happen without my trying when I was little and now it takes forever to figure out. Anything?"

"It's half blue and half orange now," supplied Valerie, who turned back to Rast. "Did this other mind or other voice or whatever have anything unusual about it?"

"It seemed to be trying to be cryptic," Rast nodded. "It thought in a woman's voice, too, and it used the word 'thy' instead of just saying 'your'."

"You sure it thought in a woman's voice?" Teddy asked, looking to Valerie inquiringly with his right eye opened wide.

"All orange now. You still need to match it up with the other one, though," she told him. "I don't know why you'd have a woman's voice in your head. Maybe it's your conscience or something."

_Thou wilt find that I am something much better than a simple conscience._

"She says that she's better than a conscience," Rast answered quietly, nearly dropping his wand as the thought intruded. "She doesn't really talk a lot, I guess. Seems to be trying to prod me into thinking about things, though."

"Well, whatever she is, I guess that's a good thing," Valerie told him. "Rushing into things is not that great. Teddy, your left eye's turquoise now. No, never mind, it's green. You're right eye has gone violet, though."

"I guess I'll get it eventually." Teddy slapped the heel of his hand against his forehead, which should have reset his eyes to their usual light brown. They turned out light green and scarlet.

"Caperhilly Catapults' colours, Teddy. You messed up," Valerie noted. Teddy gave her a quizzical look and she shook her head. "You forget who my dad is. Puddlemere Keeper. He drilled the colours of every Quidditch team in Britain and Ireland into me when I was two."

Teddy shook his head. Harry had tried to explain Quidditch to him when he was that little, but it only resulted in Teddy playing with Harry's glasses. Thinking of Harry sparked him to a comment as he clapped the heel of his hand against his forehead, successfully putting his eyes back to normal. "Harry looked right surprised by you, Rast."

"He did, didn't he? Do you think he might have known one of my parents, and that I might look like one of them? That could explain it."

"Well, I don't know. I heard him and Uncle Ron talking once, which is how I know, but he doesn't want any of his kids knowing about him in the war," Teddy replied. "He didn't tell me that much, just about the basics of the fact that he defeated You-Know-Who and how bravely my parents fought. As for his kids, he doesn't want them letting fame get to their heads or anything, and doesn't want them chased down by reporters all the time. I sort of agree with him. But it's just not very feasible."

"That's probably true. How many kids does he have?" Valerie asked. Rast had told her about Harry's connection to Teddy from the first spare moment that he could find to tell her as much. And the media never really got access to the Potter and Weasley families outside their careers, which meant that knowledge about them was scarce outside of what was known about their exploits in the war and in their careers.

"He's got three, and Uncle Ron's got two. Uncle Bill has three, Uncle George has one, and Uncle Percy has two. That's eleven children to keep it from. Because there's no way you're going to be able to tell one without letting all the others know," Teddy frowned. "I like the idea. I just think it's a rather stupid way to go about it."

"Sounds like Uncle Lucius not letting me know he worked for You-Know-Who," Rast said. "Could have just made things easier for me if he had. I probably wouldn't have been so freaked by it if he hadn't have waited until I started school."

"My dad gave me a bit of the history of the war. You know, the stuff he could tell me that wouldn't frighten me when I was small," Valerie added. "It's not much, but it's enough to work with until History and Defence classes cover the rest."

They sat like that, chatting about the war, what they knew, for another hour. They decided that on the next Friday afternoon, they would walk on down to get a good look at the white tomb near the lake that was said to be Professor Albus Dumbledore's tomb. There was supposed to be an engraving on the tomb honouring the dead from the Battle of Hogwarts. There was even supposed to be a memorial in Hogsmeade, but they wouldn't be able to visit it until their third year. Before long they decided that sleep was needed, and they went to their dormitories for a well-deserved rest. They could find out more about this Professor Snape and the mysterious voice later.

~*~

He was walking down the halls of Malfoy Manor, wand out and held aloft to shine brilliant light through the darkness. The halls stretched unnaturally wide, and far further than they ought to have. He was scared. This was unusual. His aunt and uncle couldn't be found, and neither could he locate Draco and his family. He was alone in the large house, all by himself, vulnerable to attack.

He didn't know why he was vulnerable to attack. That the idea of being vulnerable to an attack didn't bother him was strange enough, and gave him pause. He stopped, mulling it over, carefully examining the possibilities. He must be in a dream, he reasoned, which meant that he could control things. The darkness went away, replaced by the sort of dim light that ensconced torches provided.

The illuminated halls of what he thought was Malfoy Manor revealed themselves to be something quite different indeed. The stone floors and walls betrayed the existence of some sort of castle, and the torches on the walls suggested that it was quite possibly night time. There was a slight shuffling sound, like that of a chair being pushed back over a rough stone floor, and Rastaban ducked back into the nearest shadows, hiding lest the source of the noise turn out to be unfriendly.

A door opened, and there was a woman framed there. Her hair was as black as the night, lustrous and seemingly silky smooth. Her skin was pale, contrasting greatly with her hair. The woman's eyebrows were thin, arching over bright brown eyes that Rastaban could swear he had seen in his own mirror. For just a moment, one he was not sure had even happened, the eyes flashed green and violet, before resuming their luminous brown shade. She wore a loose, flowing gown of bright black, inlaid with silver trim. Her face was very severe, haughty even, with heavily lidded eyes that had a sort of cold, casual cruelty to them, but seemed equally capable of great warmth. There was a slightly twisted grin on her face as she tucked a vial of red liquid down the front of her gown.

"Everything for him," she whispered to herself. Her voice had a musical quality to it. "All of it for Thomas."

She turned on her heel and disappeared.

Rastaban woke up, his hand, cold with sweat, gripping the wand in its spot beneath his pillow. His eyes were wide, and it took him an hour to settle back to sleep.

~*~

Severus Snape seemingly dozed in one of the portraits in the Gryffindor common room. The sound of a throat clearing was enough for him to raise one of his eyebrows, though, indicating that while he most certainly was not asleep he would not open his eyes for trivial matters.

"I figured out what you were getting at with that question," Rastaban said, waiting for the portrait to acknowledge him.

"Sir," the portrait replied, its eyes still closed.

"Don't call me sir. It's unbecoming. I ought to be calling you sir, sir." The boy said, smiling slightly. The portrait opened its eyes, annoyance clearly etched into his face.

"Don't do that again. If I was still alive you would have just lost ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek." He didn't mention the boy who had caused a similar exchange, some twelve years prior. It was enough that the child was quick-witted enough to do so.

"Well, anyway, I figured out what you meant by asking me about my greatest curiosity, sir." The boy stood, pyjama-clad and with his runespoor coiled about his shoulders, watching, waiting for a response from the portrait.

"Then out with it."

"I saw her. My mother, I mean. She had my eyes, and my hair – only longer. At least, I think it was her. It wouldn't make any sense for me to have seen anyone else, since I've figured out that I'm supposed to be trying to figure out who my parents are. Am I on the right track, sir?"

"Describe what you saw," Snape said. Rast complied, and launched into a description of his dream that probably took longer to tell than his dream had taken to experience. The description of the woman very nearly matched Bellatrix, Snape had to admit, but it was a description that could only fit at an early age – sixteen at the earliest. It would have been accurate around the time when she received the Dark Mark.

"That appears to describe her fairly accurately, if only at the end of her school days," Snape surmised when he had finished. "I will help you in discovering who your parents are. You will need to trust me, and pay attention when I instruct you on the kind of people that brought you into this world. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Rastaban replied. His eyes showed a hunger for knowledge that seemed to please Snape.

"You are much better at respecting me than Potter was," the portrait quietly mused. "We will begin discussing what you do know in a few weeks, then. Just keep an eye out for me, and I'll be here again when it is time for us to begin."

With that the man left the portrait and strolled on through the other nearby portraits until he arrived at the exit to Gryffindor Tower, which had just opened to admit a sixth year prefect who was returning from his rounds.

~*~

"As Headmaster Albus Dumbledore would say, it does not do to mourn the dead and worry over their loss, for death is but the next great adventure, a beautiful and natural part of life. For those brave souls that lost their lives in the Battle of Hogwarts, it is our duty to honour their courage, for without them all would be lost. And although their deaths were not desired, we offer our thanks for the sacrifice that they made so that we may have a better world."

Teddy read the words out to his friends when they sat in front of the tomb of Albus Dumbledore. Most students didn't really go too close to the tomb unless they were paying respects to the dead, so it was one of the few areas of the Hogwarts courtyard that was truly quiet and undisturbed. The light seemed to shine unusually bright over the spot, and a faint hint of phoenix song echoed around the tomb.

Beneath the engraving was affixed a plaque, naming the dead of the defenders of Hogwarts. There were names. Some names, such as that of a Colin Creevey, elicited no response, as they were completely unfamiliar. Others were well known. Fred Weasley was a legend, and Remus and Nymphadora Lupin were Teddy's parents. They had been great heroes, and the name Nymphadora flashed brightly in a constant fluctuation of colour. The last name on the plaque seemed to have been added last, after the plaque was added to the tomb.

"Headmaster Severus Snape," Rast read, tracing the name with his finger as he read. "He only died eleven years ago. He didn't tell us that."

"Maybe he didn't want to share it with us. Maybe it's a painful subject for him to bring up," Valerie said. "He seems to like you, though. At least enough to be interested in you."

"Yeah. He's going to help me understand my parents."


End file.
